


Subtle Ironies

by destinae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Character Death, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, burn so slow that jane austen is rolling in her grave, but the end doesn't happen for a while, corporations are evil and scientists are good, gays may not be able to drive cars but apparently they can pull off a jaeger pretty damn well, oops! all lore, really specific lore and no real reason for it, so get cozy my dudes, strangers to research partners to rivals to business partners to lovers, they get together in the end, u heard of friends to lovers now prepare urself for:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-03-30 23:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 36,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinae/pseuds/destinae
Summary: Newt doesn't take kindly to the introduction of his stuffy new research partner, Hermann Gottlieb. However, when forces greater than both of them try to take their world away, they are forced to work together so that they can live to bicker another day.





	1. Chapter 1

          It turned out that being an instructor’s assistant was a wildly different experience from being the  _actual_   _instructor_. While Newt had doubled down on his time as an IA to make sure that he was prepared to be MIT’s youngest professor (  **_ever_ ** , but he allowed himself to forget that as often as possible, for fear of death by ego ), it seemed that nothing could prepare him for the soul-wrenching terror of standing in front of a room of students. To his peers, he was seen as valid and respected, if not a bit ill-adjusted. As Newt stood at the front of a lecture hall of 200 freshman whose expressions ranged from indifferent to dreadful to near-unconscious, however, he tried to swallow his looming anxiety so that he could take ownership of his circumstances. He had paved this path himself. Granted, the full-ride scholarship had sweetened the deal, but that money hadn’t bought him the  _ two doctorates _  that currently hung in his office.

 

          Well, they did. But not literally. They paid for the paper, but he--

 

          Deep breaths. Newt turned on the projector, and cleared his throat, signaling the class to pay attention. None of them did.

 

          The deal with the department was simple: while Newt was almost  _ over _ -qualified to be teaching Functional Kaiju Biology, most of the people taking the course were older than him. If he agreed to teach three semesters of an introduction course, he would then be allowed to instruct the class that he had helped _  create _ .

 

          Being a prodigy wasn’t always full of wins.

 

**“Alright, my name’s Newt, and I’ll be teaching you guys some science.”**

 

          Objectively, Newt knew that he had remained in the lecture hall for the next thirty minutes, reviewing the syllabus of Intro to Kaiju Studies, answering what few questions there were and losing himself on rabbit hole after rabbit hole of Kaiju trivia. When he’d dismissed the class, a few students had come to the front and shook hands with him, introducing themselves by names he couldn’t recall and asking him questions they’d been too afraid to pose during lecture. That said, all of it existed in a bizarre, liminal space. He felt detached from the experience, and in a way, preferred it as such.

 

          Being a professor hadn’t always been part of the game plan, but it turned out that after enough charity, even the hand that feeds would withdraw. MIT had changed the terms of his scholarship, covering the cost of his research and continued studies in exchange for his contribution to the university’s staff. Given his propensity to drop large quantities of information about his interests (  _ especially _  Kaiju ), it had seemed that instruction had been the most obvious path. It turned out that no number of accolades and certificates impressed non-major Freshman that showed up for attendance.

 

          Fortunately, Newt had never been one to cave to ego, so his was not bruised by the indifference. They’d turn. E ventually. There was no way that someone  _ wouldn’t _  care about this kind of stuff after they were exposed to enough of it. Newt left the classroom, computer tucked under his arm, and took the fastest route back to his office. Due to scheduling complications, his next class wasn’t for three hours. That was just enough time to do some research, and choke down a little coffee. Newt arrived at his office, closing the door as soon as he was in and immediately relaxing.

 

          Stepping into the Geiszler office was like taking a dive directly into the deep end of a fourteen year old boy’s bedroom. While he’d only had the room for a few weeks at this point, Newt had decorated every available surface with Kaiju specimens, models, miniatures, and texts. His office was as much a museum as it was a personal area. He stood at his desk for a moment, the silent lord of this disorganized fire hazard of a room, when the door flew open.

 

          Hadn’t he locked it?

 

          Newt shouted, jumping towards his desk.

 

          At the door stood Stacker Pentecost, the Dean of the Kaiju Studies program and Newt’s direct supervisor, as well as the most intimidating thing he’d ever laid eyes on-- and Newt had been at ground zero when the first Kaiju touched land. He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to ease his own shock.

 

           **“Hey man, what’s going on?”**

 

          Pentecost looked around the office before taking a few steps into it. **“I was told that you’ve been looking into Kaiju genetics,”** Stacker said, somehow forming a question out of a statement.

 

          Only for the past five years. **“Yeah, it’s all really rudimentary stuff, though. Groundbreaking, of course, probably the first of its kind, but I don’t think there’s anything---”**

 

           **“Glad to hear it.”** Stacker then picked up a small model of a Kaiju cuticle, setting it back down and turning his attention back to Newt. **“With the new Kaiju Studies program doing so well, we’ve decided to begin developing emphases within the program. It’s important that we get this information as effectively and as entirely as we can to as many people as possible. The Kaiju are at bay for now, and I’m not interested in finding out what’s next.”**

 

          As flattering as it was that Pentecost addressed him in such a way that it sounded like Newt had all the answers, it simply wasn’t true. **“Me neither. But Pentecost, I don’t know how practical it is for me to take on that kind of project. I mean, I’m a xenobiologist.”**

 

          Clearly having anticipated the answer, Stacker nodded. **“We’ve decided to put you in contact with a statistician studying breach anomaly.”**

 

          Newt had learned how to work on his own during his time as the resident MIT prodigy. This was due to two things: first, that for most of his instruction, his peers hadn’t trusted him to handle their workload, and second, because he was absolutely  _ infuriating _ . Newt hadn’t categorized  **himself**  as infuriating, mind you. He’d had the pleasure of hearing that through the grapevine. These two factors, however, had no personal impact on Newt, as he liked being able to work on his own schedule. That said, if Pentecost had found someone who was on his level, who would listen to what he had to say about Kaiju, and would potentially contribute-- he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. **“Uh, alright. When do I meet him?”**

 

           **“Not for a while.”** Stacker replied. “ **He’s working out of Los Angeles with the UC circuit on his research. You’ll have to communicate through email and text for now. If you two make some progress, we’ll see about getting you in a lab together. For now, the price on him is just too high to have both of you under the same roof.”**

 

           **“Oh, yeah, alright, cool.”** Newt replied, nodding and running his fingers through his hair. **“Uh, do you have- do you** **_have_ ** **his email?”** He asked.

 

          Stacker responded in silence, handing Newt a business card and looking around the room. **“They’ll tell you this place is a fire hazard.”** He said, waving a finger to gesture at the cluttered shelves that ran the perimeter of the room.  Without waiting for a response, Stacker left, closing the door behind him and leaving Newt alone in his office.

 

          It would take Newt two days to get himself to write the email.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello Dr. Gottlieb, my name is Dr. Newton Geiszler._

 

_I am a professor, researcher, and scholar at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. My superior, Dr. Stacker Pentecost, has told me that we will be working as partners in research, working towards the common interest of creating nuanced curriculum for the study of Kaiju and their associated phenomena. While I was given your name, I was not given much information about you. Rudimentary searches tell me you have begun work on an algorithm to better predict the times & dates of breach activity. Your work sounds challenging and interesting in its own right, but is a largely foreign language to me. _

_Currently, my work focuses on DNA sequencing of Kaiju, as well as speciation and anatomical records. I’ve been fortunate to have been sponsored by MIT through my education and graduate school, and I’ve thus far enjoyed sharing and publishing my research through them. I’ve been told you’re currently working through UC. I have some good friends studying at Berkeley, though they’ve committed their focus to more traditional studies._

_What have you discovered thus far? I look forward to hearing back from you._

 

_Thank You,_

_Dr. Newton Geiszler_

_Professor, School of Science_

_Massachusetts Institute of Technology_

 

Newthad heard nothing back from Gottlieb. Had the email been too casual? He’d spent almost three hours sitting at his computer with an untouched glass of iced french press, revising and re-revising and restarting and _then_ revising the email before finally sending it. While Newt wasn’t worried about being able to hold up his part in the research, he had always been somewhat sensitive to sounding too close to his age when he wrote emails.

 

Was sounding verbose and stuffy instead the best answer? Probably not.

 

At present, two days after sending the email and now four days from being contacted by Stacker, Newt found himself sitting in the living room of his small apartment. The space was reminiscent of his office ( or rather, the office evoked the much more intense aura of his apartment ), though much more pricey artifacts found themselves at home on his kitchen counter, sitting in dichotomy next to jars of sugar and flour. Not that he really used the ingredients. The TV was playing a documentary on the evolution of military weapon design since the first Kaiju landing. While it wasn’t up his alley in its entirety, Newt was well aware that there were more than likely going to be snippets of useful information in any related media-- so he nursed a glass of red wine ( pinot noir, gifted to him by his parents when he’d been given the professor position ) and sat comfortably on the loveseat, drowning in a fluffy blanket.

 

Then his phone lit up. An email notification.

 

Newt tried ( and failed ) to restrain his excitement as he tossed off the blanket, leaning forward and grabbing his phone. It scanned his face, recognizing it and unlocking immediately. Newt opened his mail app, swallowing a lump in his throat as the inbox refreshed.

 

And there it was. _RE: [ Untitled ]_

 

Had he really forgotten to title the message? Newt tapped the unread email, chewing on a hangnail on his thumb before the content of the email loaded.

 

_Hello,_

 

_Good to hear from you. I’m currently abroad in Hong Kong. It’s going well._

 

_Sent from my iPhone_

 

For a few long moments, Newt stared at the message in silence. He read it over and over, trying to grasp the tone, or pick up on some unspoken message that Gottlieb might have been trying to express. Nothing. It was just an email.

Then he laughed at himself. Newt hit the reply button, setting the wine glass down by his feet and holding the phone in both hands as he began to type.

  


_Cool._

 

Backspace.

 

_That sounds interesting._

 

Backspace backspace backspace.

 

Another notification, a second email. Again, from Gottlieb.

 

_I meant to attach my number. Text me when you can, I don’t check my email._

 

_Sent from my iPhone_

 

Newt clicked the attached contact, which opened his messages app. A blank white screen stared at Newt, and he stared right back. Stalemate.

 

_Hey, it’s Newt._

 

He meant to backspace, but accidentally hit send. Of course he did. Newt watched in muted horror as the message sent with a _fwip_.

 

Several moments passed. Then a bubble with three dots popped up, and then a message.

 

_**Hey.** _

 

Something told Newt that written correspondence was not Gottlieb’s strong suit. Now fully enveloped by the conversation at hand, he crossed his legs on the sofa, hunching forward and putting his elbows on his knees. Newt held the phone inches from his face.

 

_So, Hong Kong?_

 

_**Yes. Lantau Island specifically.** _

 

_Oh, cool._

_I’ve never been._

 

**_And you study Kaiju?_ **

 

Newt’s heart fell out of his chest, and he couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d done something wrong. Of course he hadn’t been to Hong Kong, there wasn’t a single universe where MIT had the budget to fund the transport of Kaiju specimens, the purchase of new equipment, _and_ let Newt go on field trips whenever he wanted. He cleared his throat.

 

_Yes._

 

_**You should make time for a visit some day.** _

 

_Maybe I will._

_What time is it there?_

 

_**10 AM.** _

 

A glance at a clock told Newt it was 10 PM for him. Twelve hours apart. He typed another message.

 

_Cool._

  


The response was on instinct, but only after he sent it did Newt realize that it was probably not _cool_ at all to Gottlieb. He watched as the Read notification arrived, and the typing bubble from Gottlieb appeared, then disappeared. For a few moments, Newt tried to think of a follow-up for it, but nothing came to mind. With a sigh, he set his phone down and leaned back in his chair.

 

He accidentally kicked over the glass of wine.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are probably a lot of questions about the ages of the characters, and where they land on the timeline of events in Pacific Rim. While most of them should be cleared up by the end of the work, here are a few of the pressing ones:
> 
> 1\. Newt was canonically a student at MIT, and earned five doctorates during his time there. This falls between his second and third.
> 
> 2\. He is 26 in this fic. I know this probably raises a ton of pedantic questions about the logistics of a 26 year old professor, but if you can believe in giant interdimensional glow lizards, I think you can suspend your disbelief enough to allow this.
> 
> I plan to update this steadily during the week, since I'm enjoying my spring break and am feeling really inspired by the upcoming release of Uprising! 
> 
> You can find me on twitter @KAIJUFUCKER666.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Look at this._ **

 

The message was the first thing Newt saw when he woke up. It stood at the top of his phone’s notifications and begged him in silence to give in and click it. He sat up, rubbing his face and opening the phone. It took a moment to recognize his weary features in the low light, but when the phone unlocked, it went straight to his messages-- the last thing he’d had open the previous evening.

 

Attached to the message was a picture of a kaiju bone. It was drenched in Kaiju Blue, and steam could be seen rising from the specimen. From a first glance, it looked like the bone was being corroded by the Kaiju’s own blood. Suddenly feeling quite awake, Newt grabbed his glasses, awkwardly fumbling them onto his face before beginning to tap away on his keyboard.

 

_ Is that a recent sample? I didn’t get any notification that a Kaiju touched down last night. _

 

Of course, Newt had set up his app to trigger a blaring alarm any time a Kaiju event was reported. He hit send, staring intently at his phone. No response. No typing notification. With a sigh, Newt set down his phone on the wireless charger by his bed and rose. It was a Saturday, meaning his agenda was wide open. He shuffled to the kitchen, flicking on the light and staring at the counter blankly, as if food would just manifest on it. Nothing happened, of course, so he opened the pantry and began to brainstorm.

 

He ended up sitting with a bowl of cereal on the same loveseat as the previous night, legs thrown over the side and his phone balanced on his knee, waiting for a notification. By the time he finished the cereal, got dressed, and had gotten ready for the day, there was still nothing. It was only 11 PM in Hong Kong, wasn’t it? Maybe Gottlieb had healthy sleep habits, something that Newt had long since abandoned during his time in research, and likely as a direct result of the Kaiju alarms that he had set up. It was then that the realization that he’d have to wait at least ten hours to hear back from Gottlieb dawned on Newt, and he chewed on his lip for a few seconds.

 

He set down the bowl of cereal, going into his room and retrieving his tablet. 

 

It was a known fact among Kaiju researchers that Kaiju blood was corrosive. It was also known that when they died, they essentially became ticking time bombs. As Newt plunged into endless files of notes and thoughts and essays, he became absorbed in trying to figure out how a Kaiju bone could be in tact, and how the Kaiju Blue had remained that stable since the last event.

About twenty minutes into his reading, Newt’s phone buzzed.

 

**_There wasn’t an event._ **

**_This was shared with me by a local._ **

 

Newt froze typing mid-word, then pulled up the photo again.

 

_ They survived? _

 

**_**_Obviously_ ** _ **

 

That sounded right. Newt set his laptop down and picked up his phone, carrying the cereal ( that he had already grown disinterested in ) to the sink, setting it down and leaning against the counter.

 

_ Did they keep any of the skeleton? _

 

**_**_No, they say it was salvaged from the land._ **   
_ **

 

He pursed his lips.

 

_ _Probably the black market doing its work._ _

 

**_**_So you're familiar with their practices_**?_ **

 

Newt sighed verbally and debated leaving the message on Read. Of course he had worked with the black market. In many ways, they were more reliable for well-maintained and genuine Kaiju artifacts than seemingly sincere vendors.

 

__I wouldn't say so_. _

_ How long will you be abroad? _

 

While it was certainly fun that Gottlieb was doing field research, there wasn’t much good he could do to Newt or their cause without access to his information.

 

**_Another two weeks._ **

 

He could work with that. In a perfect world, Newt would have been able to drop everything and go cross-country then and there, but  _ circumstances weren’t ideal _ , so he swallowed his frustration. Nothing came easy. He set the phone down and turned his attention back to his computer.  Maybe there was a grant out there in the world that would give Newt the money he needed to visit the lab. One trip-- four weeks-- that was all he really needed to cross-reference data, share information, and set up a real rapport. The odds of that happening any time soon, though… it felt doubtful. He spent the rest of his Saturday sucked into his computer. Newt’s phone was silent, but he didn’t mind it. Gottlieb’s dialogue with him had been enough to trigger Newt’s full-blown investigative mode.

By nightfall, Newt was standing in front of the back wall of his apartment. Papers were taped all over the wall ( his landlord hadn’t taken kindly to the last time that he had stuck a ton of holes in it ), and notes with titles of articles were attached to photos. He held in his hand a printed out copy of the image Gottlieb had sent, staring at it intently and scratching the thin layer of stubble that took up residence on his chin.

 

Granted, the camera quality was limited, but the bone didn’t look right.

 

It didn’t look real.

 

He’d end up staying up until 2 AM cross-examining the visible bones in the image with observed and recorded Kaiju, and then taking those references and placing them on the timeline of Kaiju incidents. By the end of all of this, Newt stood with a mug of almost-done, long-cold coffee in a caffeine-fueled high, with a single clear conclusion.

 

The picture was a hoax.

 

_ It’s fake. _

 

Newt fell asleep with a smirk on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**_I know._ **

**_You thought I believed it was real?_ **

 

          Newt stared at the notification with a fair cocktail of disdain and disappointment, both targeted at himself. He went back and looked at the conversation, realizing that at no point had Gottlieb implied that he believed it was real. Had he shared it as some kind of joke? Were they at that level with one another already?

 

_           Oh. _

 

          Immediately, Newt realized how incriminating this was. How in the hell could he have believed that someone of equal ( if not greater ) mental prowess who worked in the same field as him would _obviously_ be able to tell the image was a hoax, and probably with a lot less fanfare. He shook his head and sat up, chewing his lip for a moment before adding,

 

_           Why did you show me it? _

 

**_I thought you’d be interested._ **

**_It’s probably the best-made hoax I’ve ever seen._ **

 

          Newt could say the same for himself. He paused for a moment, thumbs tapping the side of his phone as he thought of a way to shift the conversation away from that train wreck.

 

_           How do you think they did it? _

 

          A few moments.

 

**_I think you’d do a better job answering that than I could._ **

 

          Fair. Newt rose from his bed, picking up his glasses almost as an afterthought and walking to the living room, where his tablet sat, devoid of battery, and many of the notes from the previous night lay fallen from the wall. From the mess, he retrieved the photo, putting on his glasses and staring at it. The quality of it certainly was doing a great job of covering up the fact that it was fake, but other than that-- not much could be said. 

 

_           Probably animal bones taken with a macro lens. _

_           They probably used fake Blue, too. _

_           Then they used a low-grade camera to help make it harder to investigate closely. _

 

**_Good job._ **

 

          For what? Newt couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He picked up his tablet, carrying it to a charger and plugging it in. Maybe it was time he look into Gottlieb a little more than he had before. As he waited for the tablet to wake up, he replied.

 

_           Thanks. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at what I do. _

 

          The tone was way more casual than Newt could have imagined using with a professional peer, but maybe this was an opportunity.

 

**_Maybe not as good as you think, if you couldn’t spot a hoax immediately._ **

 

          The pride ebbed. He frowned a little and set down the phone, waiting for Gottlieb to send an apology text, or some kind of backpedal, but it never came. Sundays were days for reflection and chores. He'd gotten the first part out of the way thanks to Gottlieb's propensity to pick apart all of his messages, so Newt focused on cleaning up the mess he’d made the previous night. Was it immature for him to ignore Gottlieb for what was a frankly fair analysis of his performance? Yes. Would that stop him? Not a day in his life.

 

          The day came and went with the same routine monotony that _most_ days that didn’t involve exploring the reality of interdimensional monsters carried. Newt got groceries, picked up his dry cleaning ( a single blazer, for formal events ), and immediately returned to his house, where his charged tablet was waiting for him. He set down his bag of groceries, grabbing a braided Challah ( yes, the whole loaf ) and picking up the tablet before parking himself on the loveseat.

 

          He googled Gottlieb’s name, and a few purple links reminded him of the very basic search he’d done on the man’s research. For a few curious moments, Newt’s finger hovered over the Images button. His eyes squinted, then shifted with almost-guilt to his phone. Surely, Gottlieb had done the same thing to Newt. He tapped it, and the results loaded. Newt wasn’t sure what he had expected out of such a terse and scolding person, but for some reason, the look fit. He chewed thoughtfully on a bite of the Challah, scrolling idly, before realizing how  _ mega fucking creepy _ this was. He returned to the “All” tab, and skimmed a few more articles.

 

          Yeah, the guy was pretty smart. Whatever. Maybe if Newt got a lame haircut, he too could unlock the secrets of the cosmos or something. He locked the tablet and returned to the kitchen, putting his things away and idly turning the day’s events over in his head. He wondered how Gottlieb managed to be so smug all the time, and if his anger was a direct result of the haircut. Maybe he got the haircut to  _ emphasize _ the attitude. 

 

          Regardless, Newt decided, he had a class to teach the next day. While he knew he could show up and talk about his favorite bands the whole time and that would not affect the students’ interests, he liked to think that he could  _ Freedom Writers _ them into caring about one of the greatest legitimate threats to the human race. Maybe some causes were meant to be lost.

 

          The next morning, Newt arrived to his first lecture almost ten minutes late. 


	5. Chapter 5

          The same blank-eyed gazes greeted Newt as he explained the very rudimentary understanding that was held by humanity about the Kaiju. He went into detail about his own experience witnessing Kaiju landings, and the awesome ( terrifying ) way that they totally dominated ( destroyed ) the skyline. He concluded the class with an assignment to pick a favorite Kaiju, and to submit a brief essay on what is known ( or better, unknown ) about them. The class filed out, and Newt returned to his office in peace.

 

          When he arrived, he braced for Pentecost to make an appearance. He didn’t. newt checked his phone on instinct, but was reminded immediately of how his last exchange with Gottlieb had gone. 

 

          For a few seconds he considered typing a message.

 

_           Found any substantial information, or are you too busy studying up on dead ends? _

 

          Deciding the message was far too cutting, Newt desperately backspaced-- halfway through he hit send.

 

_           Found any substantial information _

 

          The message and its stark lack of punctuation stared back at him. Newt set his phone on his desk and took a seat, leaning back in the chair and letting out a deep breath.

 

          His phone lit up.

 

          On instinct, he twitched-- but immediately restrained himself. Newt picked up a now-cold cup of coffee he’d prepared that morning and took a sip, ignoring the bitterness. He continued to recline for a few more moments before finally kicking himself into action-- by which he meant opening his tablet and going through his emails.

 

          A few from students, one from Pentecost, and about twelve from various news outlets, forums, and message boards. He opened the email from Pentecost.

 

_           Newton-- _

 

_           Do not show up to lecture late again. _

 

_           You are being watched with a close eye. _

 

_           Do not make them regret giving you this opportunity. _

 

_           Stacker Pentecost, Dean. _

 

          A chill went up Newt’s spine, and his stomach dropped. 

 

          Stacker had been one of the few on the board that had been in his corner unflinchingly form square one. He’d been the one to recruit Newt from a science convention, to back the scholarship that would help Newt afford his time at MIT, and had consistently insisted that the university equip him with the best technology that they could. 

          Not many people’s opinions mattered to Newt, but Stacker’s carried a good amount of weight. The man was brief and bold, but every act he took was measured and thorough. Newt envied that, in many ways. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to live knowing how it came across, though. Newt flexed his hand for a few moments, debating sending a reply. There was no way he could apologize, that’d admit fault. He  _ had _ done something wrong, though. He’d shown up late.

 

          Another buzz from his phone snapped Newt out of his focus, and he picked it up, welcoming the distraction. 

 

          Two messages from Gottlieb.

 

**_Unfortunately, no._ **

**_Things did not go as planned._ **

 

          Sufficiently intrigued, Newt chewed on a hangnail and typed out a response.

 

_           What was planned? _

 

**_An event._ **

 

          Right, Gottlieb had been working on an equation for Kaiju events for years. If it hadn’t been right… he smiled. Maybe they both had their shortcomings. Showing a herculean level of restraint in not making a dig at Gottlieb’s understanding of his field, Newt gave a more civil answer.

 

_           What now? _

  
           ** _I fix the formula._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is brief! I'm currently setting up for a lot of more Serious Plot Progression™, so be patient with me please, I promise it'll all be worth it.
> 
> That said, I was really being eaten alive by this fic's divergence from canon, so I made a brief and simple spreadsheet timeline to clarify how things worked. It is available here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ntWoQHWJ9hDMjBtlB2uG_bIM7rrR-Uebfysr77nihaQ/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> As always, I can be found on twitter @kaijufucker666. you can also hit me up on tumblr @destinae, but I'm not very personable there. I hope you enjoy.


	6. Chapter 6

**“Newt.”**

 

The interjection went unnoticed, as Newt continued to walk down the hallway. 

 

**“Newton!”**

 

This time, Newt registered that the call for attention had been targeted at  _ him _ . He stopped, turning around to face in the direction of the voice calling him. It was Stacker. Was this about the email? Surely Stacker knew that email was the most cumbersome and degrading means of communication besides smoke signal. Newt stopped in his tracks and turned to face the man.

 

**“You’ve spoken with Dr. Gottlieb.”** Stacker asked, another one of his questions-as-statements. 

 

**“Yeah.”**

 

**“Have you managed to make any progress?”**

 

Right. Research. Forwarding the human effort to survive in the wake of a massive, leathery threat. Newt cleared his throat.  **“No.”**

 

The pause before Stacker spoke was all that Newt needed to hear.  **“Dr. Geiszler.”** He said, tone calm yet severe,  **“We are close to a second event-”**

 

**“Not as close as Gottlieb thought.”** The response escaped Newt’s mouth before he could think about it, and more than anything he wanted to reach into the air and pull them back.

 

**“I’m sorry?”**

 

**“Uh-- Gottlieb. His equation predicted an event last week. Nothing happened.”**

 

Stacker glared at him with a set jaw.  **“Newton. Time is of the essence.”**

 

**“Stacker-”**

 

**“I’m not finished.”**

 

**“Listen, man--”**

 

**“Time is of the essence, and not just for your cause. You’ve got it good right now, but the university’s not in love with your performance. Being absent during your second week is unacceptable. Work with Gottlieb and make yourself an asset again.”**

 

An indignant rage billowed up inside Newt. An asset? He had pioneered the study of Kaiju DNA, and had done the first in-depth study of Kaiju morphology. Newt was well on his way to his third doctorate, yet none of his accolades or achievements made him an asset? He furrowed his brow. 

 

**“I don’t think you understand how delicate this is, Stacker. I can’t** **_do_ ** **this without his help.”**

 

**“I thought you were talking,”** Stacker justifiably countered.

 

**“Fine, yes, we have been, but he’s abroad right now with no access to his work. I’ve been doing my own research into the growth of Kaiju and how they’ve evolved between events, and I know we’ve only seen a few up until now, but I think you’d really like-”**

 

A single finger held up by Stacker was enough to silence Newt.  **“Get your work done, Geiszler. I can’t defend an unjust cause.”**

 

With that, Stacker left, having delivered his daily dose of humility to Newt. Immediately, Newt pulled out his phone and typed,

 

_ When will you be back in the US? _

 

Before he could lock it, there was a response.

 

**_Two weeks._ **

**_Why?_ **

 

Because we need to do our job, asshole. Newt shook his head.

 

_ I need your research ASAP. _

_ It’ll help with the whole “stopping the Kaiju” thing _

 

Newt pocketed his phone, ignoring the vibrations as he headed to his next lecture and said his piece.

 

When the lecture was over, Newt stayed in the empty hall and pulled out his phone.

 

**_Indeed it will._ **

**_I’ll send you a ZIP when I arrive._ **

 

This was probably the most civil and natural conversation they’d had since they’d begun talking almost-- good god, nearly a week ago. Newt set his phone down and tapped his fingers on the podium, the sound echoing through the silent room. He turned on the computer that attached to the projector, and was about to type something into google when the door to the lecture hall opened.

 

Not looking up yet, he went to a site that ( claimed to ) monitor breach radiation and activity 24/7. A line graph rose and fell by 5 second intervals, and a series of pie charts & bar graphs tracked levels of sulfur, heat, brightness, and variance of width. The system that tracked it had been created by someone at the University of Texas, and while it was not perfectly reliable, there were certain patterns that came before Kaiju events. When Newt looked up, he saw a student standing at the door, looking at him blankly.

 

**“What’s up, man?”** Newt asked, pulling out his tablet and beginning to take down notes from the charts.

 

**“I just had a question about the lecture.”** The student replied, looking over Newt’s shoulder.  **“But, if you’re busy, I could just visit your office hours--”**

 

Looking at the same place over his shoulder, Newt realized that he’d left the probjector on. He had nothing to hide.  **“No, no-- nono, I can listen. What’s up?”** He restated the original question and set the tablet down mid-word.

 

**“You said you were there when Kaiceph touched down on land.”**

 

It was true. Newt had been in Cabo San Lucas when Kaiceph had made it to land. While he wished it’d been turn of fate, the truth was that he’d been on vacation at the time, and been given a tip by a good friend of his online that there was an event headed toward Cabo. As he’d only been a few hours away, Newt had gone there to be at ground zero.  **“Yeah, I was.”**

 

The student paused.  **“I just think that’s an exaggeration. I mean, Kaiceph was nuked as soon as they saw it.”**

 

_ That _ was not true.  **“Where do you get your Kaiju coverage from?”**

 

**“Uh… the news.”**

 

**“Consider another outlet, because that’s not the whole story. There was a military standoff for a while, but it took them almost eight hours to decide to nuke it.”** By then, Newt had retreated well out of blast radius with all the data he could gather and his tail between his legs.  **“See, what was awesome about Kaiceph was that it had a thicker armor than any of the previous Kaiju. They weren’t equipped for it, so the thing just tore right through six lines of defense-- and that’s not including their two lines of naval defense. The thing was an absolute menace, man.”**

 

The student stared blankly at him, and that was when Newt knew he’d lost them.   **“Right.”**

 

A long silence between the two of them, and the student was gone. Newt looked back at the chart, which had shifted considerably since the conversation had started, and took down a few more notes before powering down the computer and leaving for his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stakes are rising!! I'm working really hard on finding each character's distinct voice, and really padding out relationships well for what I've got planned.
> 
> Just a few more chapters before things get spicy!
> 
> Find me on twitter @kaijufucker666, or tumblr @destinae. Thank you for reading, you can expect another chapter ( or chapters ) soon.


	7. Chapter 7

          The alert came at 4 in the morning the next Saturday.

 

          Newt and Gottlieb had kept up a good rapport, and had finally exchanged some research information that had formed the framework for the study specializations. While all of it was still in the beta stage, there was a lot of merit to what they were doing. Pentecost, while sated, was not  _ overjoyed _ by the state of their work. He would just lecture Newt about lost time in the first two weeks. During this time, Newt had managed to get into a steadier schedule with his courses, which in turn had helped him create a regular pattern for development. In short, things had begun to fall into place.

 

          That meant that they’d soon fall out of place.

 

          Newt woke up, shirtless and mortified, the familiar sound coming from his phone. He immediately put on his glasses, shaking hands unlocking the phone after it failed to recognized his face in the pitch black. 

 

**KAIJU EVENT. CATEGORY II. HEADED TO JAPAN. LAND ARRIVAL PREDICTED IN 46 HOURS. THOSE IN AREA BEGIN EVACUATING IMMEDIATELY.**

 

          Just over two days. Newt scrambled out of his bed and nearly sprinted to his living room, shirtless and frazzled, turning on the TV and putting it on a preset new channel. He knew the story wouldn’t break for another two or three hours, but when it did, he needed to know what was happening. With his tablet now turned on, Newt quickly pulled up his airline miles account, seeing if there was any universe where he could be there the next day.

 

          $789 for a next-day flight. He punched the arm of the loveseat in frustration. The miles would cover about $500 of it, but $289 was a lot to drop. Newt’s phone lit up again, and he almost collapsed from fear. 

 

**_Are you seeing this?_ **

 

          Gottlieb was in Hong Kong. He’d be able to be in Japan during the arrival on land.

 

          Newt called him, setting the phone on speaker and turning down the news. A heavy silence hung in the air as the phone rang. The living room was filled with the ambient lighting from the TV, but everything else seemed very  _ still _ . A click. Gottlieb had picked up. More silence, and Newt found himself at a loss for words.

 

**“You’ve got to get to Japan, man.”** Newt said.

 

          More loaded silence. He almost wondered if he’d somehow called the wrong number, or if Gottlieb had picked up by mistake. 

 

**_“You expect me to pack my bags and head somewhere that would leave me with nowhere to run, just so I can get a glimpse of the thing that would inevitably kill me? Did you think that question through at all?”_ **

 

          Yeah, it was the right number.  **“If you don’t, and I can’t, neither of us are going to get the data we need. Listen man, that thing-”**

 

**_“Dr. Gieszler, I will not waste my precious time arguing with you about a field trip. Data will-”_ **

 

**“It’ll be made publicly available after the incident? You know those numbers aren’t true, Gottlieb. Even if they were, they won’t be the data that you or I use. We need to get there-”**

 

**_“I don’t have time for this.”_ ** With that, the phone call ended, and one more pocket of light collapsed in on itself. Newt looked at the screen, waiting for the breaking news banner to come on. Nothing yet.

 

          He closed the tab with the airfare, and went to a Kaiju chatroom. The thing was blowing up with thousands of other people who had those notifications on. About six different languages filled the screen, all of them expressing the same cocktail of confusion and excitement that Newt felt coursing through his veins. He tried to decipher the ones he knew ( English, German, rudimentary Spanish ), and ignored the ones he couldn’t. A couple links claimed to be livestreams of the creature, but Newt had learned about two spyware viruses in that they were always bad news.

 

          The breaking news banner appeared, and Newt immediately pulled up his notes app, eyes glued to the screen as he waited for some kind of report on the creature. The newscaster spoke with wide eyes and a furrowed brow.

 

**“Reports have come in of a Kaiju event coming from the Pacific Breach. Cursory data tells us that it is headed towards the island country of Japan. The creature, which has been given the name ‘Onibaba’ by the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps, is predicted to make landfall in thirty hours. We will be providing live updates on the event as they come in. For now, we advise all viewers to contact any loved ones in Japan and make sure that they are either in a bunker, or seeking shelter in mainland Asia.”**

 

          Newt glanced at his phone again. He wondered if Gottlieb knew anyone in Japan. He wondered why he cared. Clearing his throat, Newt reached over to the coffee table, taking out a notepad and quickly jotting down a few times, as well as the events that had occurred. Pulling out his reading notes from the week previous, Newt compared them to other notes preceding previous Kaiju events. The readings fell within a standard deviation, but the accuracy was around 95%. That was too broad of an allocation.

 

          He opened his email app, quickly tapping out a message to his class.

 

_           Hello students, _

 

_           In light of the current Kaiju event, I will be cancelling all classes on Monday. To make up for this cancellation, please write me a two-page reflection on the Onibaba incident. It should be in MLA format, but if it isn’t, I’m not the format police. Just turn something in. _

 

_           Thank you, _

_           Dr. Newton Geiszler.  _

 

          Without bothering to proofread or think about formality, he hit send.

 

          Newt wouldn’t fall asleep until 7AM, with his tablet in his lap, the news playing on the TV, and his glasses sitting crooked on his face. He’d wake up at 11 at the courtesy of his finicky biological clock to three missed calls from Pentecost, and a couple texts from Gottlieb.

 

          Some things didn’t change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "b-b-but onibaba w-was taken down by stacker!" u stutter, mortified by my consistent divergence from and commitment to canon. 
> 
> "this is my house, foolish mortal" i reply, a mirthless grin on my face as i hit "publish" on the new chapter page.
> 
> but seriously, in this timeline, onibaba's just more of the same, taken down by a jaeger. mako wasn't there, stacker wasn't there, blah blah blah. 
> 
> @kaijufucker666 on twitter, @destinae on tumblr.


	8. Chapter 8

         Newt woke up and the first thing on his mind was Hermann, which was disgusting, considering he was fairly confident that Hermann would rather lose a limb than lend any conscious thought to  _ him _ . Newt had tried to rationalize with himself-- Hermann was a statistician. He had no stake in the opportunity to see a Kaiju alive. Newt was a biologist, the chance to see a Kaiju move and breathe and live was likely the greatest opportunity he could be provided with beyond somehow observing a Kaiju in captivity.

 

         He rubbed his eyes, adjusting his glasses and looking at the TV. A banner ran on the right side of the regular news coverage with a live timeline of events. For now, it seemed that there was no immediate threat-- the monster was busy scuttling its way across the ocean floor. Checking a few Kaiju sites told him that infrared sensors described it as crustacean in nature. Once he was done with that, newt stared at the screen with a furrowed brow and a hunched back, entire body tense with excitement and terror.

 

**“I’m not surprised I couldn’t reach you. I assume you’re unavailable because you’re working, and** **_not_ ** **because you’ve chosen to ignore me. Newton, I expect you to have a decent case file on the Onibaba incident by Tuesday, especially since you’ve decided to cancel classes until then.”**

 

         It was Newt’s third time listening to the voicemail, and he still couldn’t make heads or tails of it entirely. The message was obvious, but he couldn’t tell if Pentecost was  _ livid _ , or just  _ annoyed _ . Stacker was good at being unreadable like that. Newt finally responded to his hunger pangs, preparing the most mediocre lox bagel ( feat. the last 3 capers he had ) in human history, and scarfing down the first half of it while watching the TV from the kitchen counter. The food was enough to motivate him to join the land of the living.

 

         Within twenty minutes, his hair was as tamed as it ever would be, and he’d pulled off an outfit that made him look like he was at least  _ familiar _ with the idea of adjusting to society. The bagel still wasn't finished, though, so Newt held off on brushing his teeth. It would only be a number of hours until he was being contacted about the Kaiju-- while he wasn’t the only person researching morphology, speciation, and DNA patterns in Kaiju, Newt certainly was the most likeable, and the most accessible. Plus, he was one of the few who knew how to talk in a way that didn’t require a thesaurus.

 

         Newt was sitting on his loveseat, the second half of the bagel sitting on his chest, one leg thrown over his arm and scrolling idly through a few articles about Onibaba, when he heard a familiar voice on the TV. He knew who it was instantly. Gottlieb. He looked just like his pictures, except even more irritated. How was that possible? Hermann was standing by the coast, presumably in China, with a camera on a medium shot of him. Newt’s first thought was that he dressed like a fucking nerd. Newt's second thought was that he, himself, also dressed like a fucking nerd.

 

**_“Yes, the Kaiju, ‘Onibaba’ has arrived precisely on schedule-”_ **

 

**“Liar!”** Newt shouted, throwing the remaining half of his bagel at the tv, and only realizing about halfway through the bagel’s arc through the air how ridiculous the gesture was. He pulled up his twitter, typing up a heated message about disliking people who didn’t show professional integrity-- then exiting out and choosing not to save it as a draft. He quickly went to his email, pleased to find that a few ( of the same ) outlets had asked him for a written statement about the Kaiju.

 

         So he typed one up, including a few notes about morphological similarities between Onibaba and Reckoner, and how the Kaiju form seemed to have evolved to better suit an aquatic base of operations. He sent the message, looking up at the screen just in time to catch something else Gottlieb was saying.

 

**_“I hope that my proximity to the event will further my research about the nature and severity of Kaiju arrivals. I hope to be able to create a formula that will also predict the category of a Kaiju before they exit the Breach. This will help us be better armed for whatever happens.”_ **

 

_          “What about the type of Kaiju?” _ the reporter asked, listening intently to Gottlieb.

 

**_“I’m sorry?”_ **

 

_          “The type of Kaiju. Will you ever be able to predict what form the Kaiju might take? They’re always unique, and knowing what they’ll look like could help us better prepare, don’t you think?” _

 

**_“That’s not my field, unfortunately. My- my research partner, he works heavily in the field of Kaiju morphology. There’s no mathematical equation that could cater to so many genetic factors.”_ **

 

         A smug smile settled on Newt’s face, and he felt an aura of pride rise around him. Gottlieb had seemed almost unclockable thus far. That moment of humility was enough to motivate Newt to pull up some readings on the size and shape of the Kaiju. A few unmanned submarines with cameras were on their way to Onibaba, but they would not intercept for another 18 hours. For now, he’d done all he could. The interview ended, and the news cut back to a segment on Kaiju survival tips.

 

         Newt muted the TV and dialed Pentecost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was GOING to drag the slide of life out for another three chapters, BUT I think we have a mutual understanding that the monsters are the coolest part of this.
> 
> Keep holding out, the long distance business is almost over. Scout's honor.
> 
> Find me on twitter @kaijufucker666, and tumblr @destinae.
> 
> Also its come to my attention that I have not been spelling newt's last name correctly, and while I am very sorry, I am also way too lazy to go back and fix it. Won't happen again. xoxo gossip girl.


	9. Chapter 9

**“Get me a flight to Japan.”**

 

**_“No way in hell, Newton.”_ **

 

**“I need to go to Japan.”**

 

**_“There is no space in the department’s budget to be sending you on unscheduled trips.”_ **

 

**“And there’s no space on Earth for a giant lizard, but we get that anyway**

 

**_“That doesn’t mean I can make it happen. Have one of your cronies on the ground send you the information, and work off of that.”_ **

 

Newton let out an exasperated sigh. **“I don’t--- alright, Pentecost. I’ll see you Tuesday.”**

 

It was Sunday, 3AM, and Newt was scrambling around his apartment in a desperate attempt to gather any empirical data besides what was being broadcast on the news. A third grader could draw analysis from that data. It was big. It was angry. It wanted to crush things. Newt needed to know what color it was. He needed to know the frequency of its roar. He needed its skull-- good God, anything could have been better than sitting up shit creek without a paddle.

 

When he’d first published his dissertation on Kaiju genetic coding, Newt had formed a detailed network of people from all countries around the world, who had provided him with the information he needed for events that he couldn’t be there for. However, as time had gone on from his first doctorate to his second, and now well on his way to his third, Newt had lost touch with them. Some had given up for fear. Others had ended up caught up in the black market and arrested. Others more had simply lost interest in the monsters.

 

Newt didn’t understand the last reason. Bias aside, his network was close to nothing. Besides the windfall of quickly gained and lost interest before and after every event, Newt’s communications had largely run dry-- not that he’d been able to face up to Stacker about it. Unless he could get to Japan, there was nothing he could do. Onibaba was about to make landfall. He had roughly two hours to either find someone with a stream, or succumb to frustration.

 

That’s when his phone rang. Hermann. Newt let it ring a few times before picking up.

 

 **“Enjoying the view?”** Newt asked, the greeting intending to sound cutting, but ending up sounding a little too friendly.

 

 **_“Ehm… no.”_ ** The response was as curt and indifferent as Newt had expected.

 

 **“Oh, being in a safe yet convenient proximity to the first moments of a Kaiju making landfall isn’t entertaining to you, Hermann?”** Newt asked, shaking his head.

 

**_“No, not when my departing flight was supposed to be today, and they cancelled it for fear the damn thing would swat the plane out of the sky.”_ **

 

Newt paused. **“That seems like an extraordinary precaution, considering the fact that the Kaiju’s trajectory isn’t remotely close to the area you’d be flying in.”**

 

**_“I know.”_ **

 

Silence. **“How much longer are they keeping you there?”**

 

**_“It depends on how long it takes to bring the Kaiju down. They predict three days at most.”_ **

 

More silence. **“Uh, why did you call me, exactly?”**

 

 ** _“Right.”_** Hermann said, as if he’d just been reminded of something, **_“I’ve adjusted the equation, and it predicts a Kaiju within the next three months.”_**

 

**“Well, it also predicted a Kaiju a week early, so I think we’ll be fine, dude.”**

 

 ** _“I don’t.”_** The tone Hermann said this in would have been troubling, if his tone wasn’t _always_ so severe and cutting.

 

Newt sighed. **“Even if that is true, I’m stuck in Boston until my annual trip to the Corps.”** His tone betrayed the true frustration he felt about it.

 

**_“That doesn’t have to be the case.”_ **

 

**“I don’t know what you’re saying. Could you be a little more detailed, Hermann? Maybe speak in more than five syllables? Maybe try a compound sentenceCould you try that?”**

 

A long pause. **_“What I’m saying, Newton, is that if you value your research, you should be ready at a moment’s notice to gather data.”_ **

 

 **“Alright, Hermann. I’ll be honest with you. Sometimes, when you say stuff like that, it feels like you’re belittling me. I don’t know if you** **_are_ ** **, but I’d greatly appreciate it if you maybe considered-”**

 

 **_“I don’t have time for this, Geiszler.”_ ** Hermann said, despite having placed the call to begin with. **_“We were made partners because we are supposed to do something productive. If you’re just going to sit there and complain, I’ll find someone else in your department to assist me with this.”_ **

 

There was no one else in his department. The Kaiju Studies program was brand new, and was but a small niche of the school of biology. Knowing that it wouldn’t be worth it to buck up, Newt just clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose. **“When you’re back in LA, we can talk.”**

 

Newt was about to hang up, But Hermann beat him to the punch, which only further infuriated him.

 

Onibaba made landfall in an hour and a half. The creature, large and crustacean and mortifying, was taken down within six hours by a Jaeger. There were many fatalities before it was taken out, though. Flags around the world were lowered in its honor.

 

In his apartment, Newt typed away.

 

Lowered flags wouldn’t stop a breach in the fabric of spacetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) and that's the tea.
> 
> We're getting closer, guys. I swear. This will all be worth it. One day, you'll say, "thanks Stella. this explorative fiction about two scientists in the future ( but also not ) is really eye-opening. i totally don't mind that it took 20 chapters for them to make eye contact. this is the bee's knees", and everything will be fine.
> 
> @KAIJUFUCKER666 on twitter, @destinae on tumblr.


	10. Chapter 10

          He presented his case file to the school board on a Sunday. Newt had worn his ( one ) blazer with his ( one ) button-up and his ( one, Kaiju-patterned ) tie. He still wore Converse, though, because the day he wore wing-tipped shoes was the day he lost. What would he lose? A thrilling question. He didn’t intend on discovering the answers. The session was far from brief: Newt began it by recanting the abstracts of the six Kaiju incidents to date ( Trespasser, Hundun, Kaiceph, Scissure, Karloff, and Reckoner ) and how each of them had advanced the study and knowledge of Kaiju as a species. After that forty-five minute stretch, there was a break, where Newt had taken the opportunity to finalize the focus of the presentation.

 

          Onibaba. Newt spent thirty minutes alone describing the physical form of it, including a few estimated notes from what he’d been able to see of the creature’s skeleton. After that, he padded out the next thirty minutes with the most educated rambling he could manage about how this impacted his study of Kaiju morphology ( it was more of the same: it made no damn sense ) and how it contributed to his dissertation. That said, he packed up his bags and tried to escape before Stacker could corner him about something else that he’d surely forgotten.

 

          He wasn’t fast enough.

 

**“Good work, Newt.”** Stacker said, crossing his arms.  **“I assume you’ll be sending a copy of those materials to Gottlieb.”**

 

          Honestly, Newt and Gottlieb hadn’t had much to say to one another since the event. They’d briefly texted when Hermann had arrived back in LA, but other than that, their exchanges had been sparse. On the Thursday previous ( after Onibaba and Hermann's return to LA, but before Newt’s presentation ), they’d forwarded one another a good quantity of documents, but nothing was going to get done until they got along.

 

          So, nothing was going to get done.

 

          Newt nodded.  **“I already have.”** the truth,  **“And asked for his feedback.”** not the truth. There was nothing Newt’s research could do to improve Newt’s, and while Stacker might have known that, it seemed he wouldn’t let it go. 

 

**“It’s hard work, I know.”** Stacker glanced over his shoulder to make sure the room was empty.  **“And it’s infuriating that if you do your job correctly, it won’t be needed anymore. But the sooner we close that breach-- or at least learn to defend it-- the less people we lose, and the less flags we have to lower.”** He nodded and left, leaving Newt alone in the room.

 

          He chewed on his lip for a moment, then pulled out his phone, debating paying a call to Hermann. His pride had grown, at least for the moment, too big to swallow, so he pocketed it instead. Newt retreated to his office and sat in the resounding silence for many minutes. He lazily perused his recent emails- most of which asked for some kind of statement. Newt sent the same one he’d sent to everyone else, because all of them asked the same question. Within an hour, he was out of obligations.

 

          Then the phone lit up. Already knowing who it would be, Newt let himself relish in a long sip of his coffee. Another buzz. He leaned forward and picked up the phone, unlocking it and viewing the messages.

 

**_There’s a flaw in your DNA analysis._ **

 

          Of course there was.

 

_           What do you mean? _

 

**_You are studying speciation of Kaiju, are you not?_ **

 

_           Yeah. _

 

**_What defines their genus?_ **

 

          Newt hesitated. He knew that, in the simplest terms, a species was the level of classification at which two animals could reproduce and have children. To define their genus meant to classify the shared traits among all of them. Beyond blood samples, however, there simply wasn’t enough information available to define a genus. If he could prove two Kaiju could reproduce, that would simplifyy things greatly. The problem was, he’d never seen Kaiju carry offspring to term. While there was theory that certain appendages were reproductive organs, not a single Kaiju to date had landed and been pregnant-- or at least, had an infant that survived the death of the parent and subsequent combustion. 

 

_           That’s what I’m trying to find out. _

 

**_Well, shouldn’t you reword your work, then?_ **

**_It seems a bit misleading._ **

 

_           So does claiming to have accurately predicted the landfall of a Kaiju. _

 

          He instantly regretted sending it. The typing bubble appeared and disappeared many times, and then Hermann called him. Newt jumped when his phone began vibrating, wondering if it was even worth picking up. He declined the call, not out of malice, but out of fear. He didn’t know what he’d say. No, worse, he  **knew** what he’d say, and wasn’t ready to hear it. The phone didn’t ring again.

 

**_After the Kaiju failed to arrive on the right date, I adjusted a variable in the formula._ **

**_I predicted it down to the hour._ **

 

          Newt was frozen.

 

          Either Hermann was right, which was terrifying, or he was wrong and lying about it, which was frustrating. Newt read the text and his jaw clenched. He considered somehow working in the fact that he’d just presented on the monster he’d failed to accurately predict, but decided it was best that he keep it civil.

 

          When he was close to sending a text, there was a knock at the door. Seeing as the person didn’t immediately barge in, Newt had it in good faith that the stranger wasn’t Pentecost. He took a moment and straightened his tie, shrugging off his jacket to make it look like he’d done something other than fume since he’d arrived in his office, and opened the door to a familiar face-- one of the private practice lab techs that had been invited to Newt’s presentation.

 

**“Howdy, Dr. Geiszler,”** he said, giving Newt’s hand a firm shake.  **“I enjoyed your presentation quite a bit. It’s amazing how much you can do with so little information.”**

 

          Newt’s response was a stiff smile.  **“Thanks, though I really hope to get to dig a little deeper into the creature’s nature. I was told that they were able to preserve most of Onibaba’s skeleton, and it’s being transported to the United States right now. If that’s true, I can’t tell you how many people I’d rub elbows with just to be a fly on the wall of the place where they store those bones. I mean, it’s truly fantastic, the idea of such pristine bones being available for my study.”**

 

          By this point in the sentence, the tech’s face had gone from a wide grin, to a gentle smile. It seemed that he wasn’t quite aware that Newt’s enthusiasm and wordiness extended beyond professional boundaries.  **“That’s why I came to talk to you. A partner of our lab has offered to fly us to Port Hueneme, where they’ll be dissecting what remains of the Kaiju. We’d be glad to take you on, but you’d have to follow some strict guidelines.”**

 

**“Of course.”** The answer was immediate and firm. Newt couldn’t bother to think about the repercussions on his position at MIT, or what those limits would be, or if this trip was even practical. All he knew was that getting his hands on that skeleton would advance his work leaps and bounds, and bring him one step closer to another doctorate-- though it wasn’t about the accolades.

 

**“Alright. Listen, all you’ve got to do is give us a copy of all of the data that you gathered, and credit us in any published papers or essays using that data.”** The man said, smiling warmly.

 

          It sounded too good to be true, but so did a professor position at MIT before the age of thirty. In a world where giant interdimensional monsters were emerging from the bottom of the ocean and being taken out by manned robots, the standard for “unrealistic” was raised sky-high.  **“I- do you have a card? Man, I’m totally interested in this, but there are some people I need to talk to.”** He said, already mentally arranging his wardrobe for the affair.

 

**“Yes, of course.”** The man gave Newt a business card, and pat him on the shoulder.  **“I look forward to hearing from you, Doctor.”**

 

**“Right, you too, dude. And traveling, right?”**

 

**“Right,”** he chuckled, waving and walking away.

 

          Newt looked down at the business card. 

 

_           Rift Research Labs _

_           A Partner of the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps _

_           Specializing in Kaiju Studies since 2011 _

 

          Then, an emblem of Trespasser’s skull.

 

          This... was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway i hope y'all have enjoyed me powering through these ten chapters like nobody's business. these have been setting the framework for a lot of things that are going to be happening further down the line.
> 
> my uploads are definitely NOT going to be as frequent after tomorrow. i've got a loaded break and then work & school, though i'm certainly still dedicated to this fic! it's a great story that i'm enjoying telling.
> 
> i'm gonna stop plugging my social media because i realized that like, it's hard to miss at this point.


	11. Chapter 11

"It's really.... it's really humid." Newt said, hands planted firmly on his hips as he looked at the rotting carcass of Onibaba. 

 

It'd taken twenty hours for Newt to come to the decision to accompany Rift to the site of the carcass. It'd been literal _years_ since Newt had seen a rotting Kaiju corpse up close and personal, and there was no telling what kind of discoveries he could make from such fresh samples. Hermann hadn't taken as kindly to the idea of Newt coming to his coast. The phone call about it had been brief and heated, and the whole time, Hermann had chided Newt about how valuable it was that they both had access to their entire bodies of work when they were on the separate coasts.

 

They'd ended the conversation on pretty divided terms, so Newt hadn't bothered to ask Hermann about meeting up. His time since arrived hadn't left much time for recreation, anyway. Newt had arrived at the airport, been picked up by a  _very_ dapper man, and immediately been run by a hotel room long enough to switch into field-appropriate clothes before he was taken right to Onibaba's body. The pace was breakneck, but the half-life on a deteriorating Kaiju body was absolutely brutal-- if Newt wanted workable samples, he was running on borrowed time.

 

The Kaiju's skeleton was visible, even from the ground level. The crisp white lab coat that Rift had been kind enough to gift Newt, which had their insignia stitched on to the left lapel and the title  _Dr. Geiszler_ emblazoned on the right, rippled in the wind, which carried with it the too-familiar smell of Kaiju flesh. It was exhilarating, being on the field was like  _nothing else_.

 

"Yes, doctor." A nervous-looking lab assistant replied. She couldn't have been older than twenty-six-- not with the way she was holding herself. She was almost as tall as newt, but the way that she seemed to physically shrink into herself at every moment made her seem roughly two feet tall. Newt had already told her twice to call him Newt, and to stop being so nervous, and that this was going to be fun, and she'd nodded and cleared her throat and changed absolutely nothing.

 

Of course, they were going to be a  _firecracker_ duo. Newt wanted nothing more than to call Hermann and demand he take her place. At this point, he would have preferred constant bickering to constant anxiety. "But I think that works to our advantage." He continued, walking towards a massive exposed rib. "It helps preserve the flesh."

 

"Oh, totally." She replied, fingers tapping rhythmically on a clipboard in her arms.

 

" _Totally_." Newt echoed, squatting down and getting a closer look at some hanging flesh. "Hey, uh-- what's your name, again?"

 

"Penny Sanchez, sir." She replied.

 

"Right. Penny. Could you pass me, uh- pass me some forceps?"

 

That was when Penny reached into her fanny pack ( which was as endearing as it was tacky ) and pulled out the forceps. 

 

"Right. I need a scalpel, could-" It was in Newt's hands before he could finish the sentence. A pause. He nodded. "Thanks."

 

Then, with practiced care, Newt grabbed a bit of the tissue and cut it off the bone. He held it up to the light, watching as it glistened in the light for a moment before setting it carefully into a  _very_ clinical Ziploc bag and tucking it into his pocket. Newt glanced at Penny, who was looking at him with eyes the size of dinner plates.

 

"Unless you want to hold it-"

 

"No, I'm fine, thanks, Doctor." She said with a nervous laugh, taking back the forceps and watching as Newt very unprofessionally wiped the scalpel on his jacket and turned back to the bone. 

 

"You know what I love about Kaiju?" Newt asked, not waiting for an answer. "Their... the way they're constructed, y'know? The way they grow. They're all so different, but it's the same pieces. It's like legos, you see how some look like birds and the other ones look like Komodo dragons, but when we cut 'em up and try to make sense of them, they all look the same. And-- and I mean, if you were to show me this rib--" Newt rapped on the rib with his knuckles to emphasize his point, "I couldn't tell you where it came from-- not even  _I_ can tell apart the components." A pause, he looked at Penny. "What are you doing here?"

 

"I'm- I'm helping you?"

 

"No, what do you want to do? Do you want to work in Kaiju biology?"

 

"I mean... I don't know, I-"

 

"Penny."

 

She paused and pursed her lips. "Yeah, I would."

 

"Then take note of this," Newt began. When Penny actually began to scramble for her notepad, he sighed. "Not literally. Just-- remember this. These guys are uncharted territory. New things... God, they make you feel like a moron, and I think that's what I love so much about them." A pause. "About studying them. But, word to the wise-"

 

Newt's phone began ringing, and he reached into his pocket. Hermann. For a moment, he considered not picking it up. Penny looked at him as if she was about to bust a  _ventricle_. 

 

Maybe some space would be good. Newt accepted the call. "Here, do me a favor and collect some bone samples for me. I've got to take this." He said, offering Penny a smile before walking away.

 

He stood facing a large pile of Kaiju entrails as he put the phone to his ear. "Hermann, what's up, man?"

 

"I still cannot  _believe_ you took their offer."

 

A sigh. "Listen, man. I'm not explaining myself again. I haven't had fresh samples in almost a year. They can have my research, I don't care, this isn't about getting a goddamn Pulitzer, Hermann. I'm just trying to figure these things out."

 

"I'm sure you are, Newton, but your own noble intentions won't sway what  **they** want."

 

"I don't know what that means, and frankly, I am not going to bother figuring it out. Has anyone told you how cryptic you can be?" Newt asked, cocking his head slightly.

 

"Did you look into this organization at all, Newton?"

 

"Uh..." No. 

 

"How can someone so decorated make such rookie mistakes? You're unbelievable, Newton. Rift doesn't care about you."

 

"Not many people do."

 

"Newton, I mean it. They're going to take your research, privatize the results, and then hold them ransom from the government."

 

"Really?" Newton asked, "Then are they all going to take turns turning around in wheelie chairs and petting their cats? They're not bond villains, Hermann."

 

"No, they're not. Newton-"

 

"For the last time, Hermann, it's Newt."

 

"Listen to me carefully."

 

"Hard pass."

 

A disgruntled sigh crackled through the speaker. "How long are you on site today, Newton?"

 

He glanced at his watch. "Three more hours."

 

"We should talk."

 

"What are we doing right now?"

 

"In person. Let's get dinner."

 

There was no heterosexual justification for the fact that Newt blushed. "I don't think anyone wants to hear us argue in person. Thanks for the invite, though."

 

"I can order something."

 

Newt pursed his lips and glanced over his shoulder, just in time to see Penny with her faces inches from the bone, carving perfect samples from the tough material. 

 

"Alright, fine, but you have to promise you won't bring up any of your conspiracy theories while I'm there."

 

A long pause from Hermann. "I'll see you tonight."

 

Newt let out a sigh and spent the rest of his time on site gathering samples and taking notes with Penny ( who he learned had just gotten her Master's, having done her thesis on the movement patterns of Kaiju ) and her inescapable neurosis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back! I had this project on the backburner for a while, but I've seen a little spike in interest so I'm going to try and give it more attention. 
> 
> We're getting into some Draúma, I'm living.
> 
> My twitter changed, I'm now @TENDOCHOl ( that's tendochoL because someone is hoarding the @tendochoi , rip ) on twitter and still @destinae on tumblr.
> 
> Keep an eye on Penny. She's gonna be important.


	12. Chapter 12

Newt left the site in the same car that had brought him there. He'd left Penny with a business card ( for MIT, not Breach, though they  _had_ been kind enough to give him a set ) and some advice, and returned to his hotel room in a state of mild panic.

 

Objectively, Newt knew that Hermann knew what he looked like, and that Hermann knew what  _he_ looked like. However, a personal first impression was the kind of thing that Newt ascribed a lot of value to. He'd considered, at first, staying in the clothes he'd spent the day in ( sans lab coat ), but they were just  _slightly_ too Kaiju-stained to pull off. Everything Newt had packed landed somewhere along the line of  _business casual_ , so he wound up in a ( Kaiju ) blue polo and some  _very_ emasculating jeans. Newt examined his reflection for a few moments, wondering if it was unprofessional to wear something that did such a poor job of hiding his tattoos. He then wondered why he worried about this, as Hermann  _definitely_ knew about the tattoos at this point.

 

Right? Newt refused to acknowledge that he might have been the only one of them to have done some in-depth internet stalking.

 

Twenty minutes and one anxious car ride later, he was standing outside of what had to be the most quaint yet  _disinterested_ town home that he'd ever seen. It was all grey brick and winding vines. It seemed to stretch up infinitely, but was only three stories. Part of Newt wondered when an organ would play, and thunder would strike, and some bats would fly out from the awning. It was definitely serving some  _Transylvania_ vibes. He glanced at his phone, then back at the house. Phone again. House. 

 

It felt rushed and forced and terrifying. Newt knocked on the door with the tentative air of someone who had just realized that they were in well over their head with someone they barely knew, and the next few seconds that passed without answer almost felt like a second chance from the cosmos, an opportunity to turn away and run as  _far_ as he could and let all of this fall behind them.

 

The door opened, and Hermann was looking at Newt with the kind of cold indifference that Newt had honestly anticipated. Several seconds of silence passed as they soaked each other in. Newt looked at Hermann's wardrobe, which could only have been described as quintessentially academic with tawny brown slacks and an eggshell button up and glasses that hung around his neck-- his hair didn't look as bad in person, but as a whole, Hermann seemed like the kind of individual that Newt wouldn't want to touch with a thirty foot pole.

 

Something told him the feeling was mutual. 

 

Hermann finally spoke. "Doctor Geis-"

 

"Newt." He replied with a smile, trying to force something amicable out of the ( dare he say it ) hostile air between them. 

  
"Newton." Hermann said, giving what newt could only guess was as close as they'd get to a compromise. "It's, uh-- nice to meet you, Hermann."

 

"Dr. Gottlieb."

 

"Right, sorry." Newt replied, not sorry at all, and not intending to call an equal by their shared title.

 

"Come inside," Hermann said, and once again, Newt wondered if he was about to become the unfortunate ( yet well-dressed ) protagonist of a victorian romance featuring an illicit affair between a possible vampire who lived in an upscale townhome, and his well-tattooed rival who had made the rookie mistake of dressing to their first meeting like he was about to hit up a golf course.

 

The interior of the townhome didn't seem to fit Hermann. It was a  _home_ , with equal parts clutter and care. Everything seemed to have a place, and the entire house smelled faintly of old books and burning wax. As quaint as this was, it only really fed into Newt's hypothesis that Hermann was actually a centuries-old vampire out for his blood. "It's, uh-- it's nice." Newt said.

 

Hermann looked back at him with a severe gaze that was either a glare or just  _how he looked at things_ , and newt blanched. "The house, I mean. It's really, uh... it's really nice. Lived in."

 

"It's a mess," Hermann replied, leading Newt out of the narrow corridor and into a living room with a small, open kitchen on the far end of it. Newt was immediately hit with the smell of cooking food. "I've been too busy with my research to give it any attention."

 

"Oh." Newt replied, "Well, I mean-- it doesn't look that way, if it's any consolation. Kind of a-"

 

"Newton," Hermann said, turning fully to look at Newt, gaze still piercing through Newt's body and directly into his soul, "Please, stop with the small talk. You and I both know that you're only here because-"

 

"Yes, because we had to  _meet in person_." 

 

"Yes," Hermann was clearly irritated, "Because there's something I need to tell you."

 

"Well...?" Newt crossed his arms.

 

"You won't want to hear it."

 

"That hasn't stopped you in the past," Newt countered.

 

"Very well. It's about Breach."

 

Newt let out a groan, rolling his eyes. "Hermann, listen, I appreciate your concern, but I've got this under my control."

 

"You really don't." Hermann replied, as he turned to walk towards the kitchen, where he began to fret over the various pots and pans that were cooking on the stove.

 

Newt followed him, leaning against the counter and looking at Hermann. "Alright, fine. I do have this under my control, entirely, but let me know why you think I  _don't_." A pause. "Not that I don't. I definitely do."

 

Hermann, who was stirring what smelled like some kind of savory soup, looked up at Newt, mouth drawn into a scowl. "Do you think that you're the first person they've approached for research?"

 

A pause. Something fell into place. "Oh, I get it." Newt replied, "You were hired by them, picked a fight, and pissed of someone who wasn't as forgiving as I am."

 

"Well- no." Hermann replied, "Newton, how much do you know about my work?"

 

"I mean, besides the Event formula? Not much."

 

"Of course. Newton, the formula isn't broken by my own fault. It was Breach."

 

"Right, and the stick-and-poke of David Bowie on my ass wasn't my fault, either."

 

"Newton. I need you to listen, as hard as it might be." Hermann paused, setting the spoon down on the counter and looking at Newt. "They offered me the same Cinderella story as they gave you, about funding all my research and flying me wherever I needed to go..." He shook his head. "Newton, the reason that my time variable still isn't right is because they own all the research I did. If I were allowed to publish the proper formula, we'd be-" A pause. "Well, we wouldn't have lost so many people with Onibaba."

 

"Alright, so let me get this straight, wise guy." Newt replied, standing up straight and beginning to pace around the small kitchen area. "You- you agreed to work with these people on a brand new formula, and didn't think to keep any information from them?"

 

"I-"

 

"No, seriously, man." Newt continued, "Do you think I'm telling them all of my findings? They don't own me, and MIT doesn't own me either. What I'm doing-"

 

"Newton-"

 

"No, Hermann, listen to me-"

 

"Newton, don't you think I tried the same?"

 

Once again, Newt had made the false assumption that he was always the smartest person in the room. "Well, given your constant need to play by all the rules when absolutely  _no one_ is making you-"

 

"Newton," Hermann interrupted again, tone severe. "They own your time now. Don't you realize that? You've sold out."

 

Being a sellout was somehow the most  _offensive_ accusation that Hermann could have leveled at Newt. "I'm not-" a long pause, "Hermann, I didn't-" a sigh. "I'm not taking this from you. I didn't come all the way over here to deal with you tearing me down again."

 

"Do you think this is personal, Newton?"

 

 

"You're going to have a hard time convincing me that it isn't."

 

"It isn't." Hermann said. "Newton, all those deaths from Onibaba were a direct result of my working with Breach. People died because I wanted to take the fast road to success. That's what you're after, isn't it?"

 

"Well, yeah."

 

"Newton, this isn't just about proving people wrong anymore. Your research is supposed to save lives." Hermann glared directly at Newt, who was now standing at the opposite end of the almost  _offensively_ small kitchenette, gripping the counter with white knuckles. "But you only seem interested in saving your reputation."

 

"Very poetic." Newt replied, "But I've already made my choice. No one- they're not going to keep life-saving information from the public," he countered, not as confident as he was at the beginning. "You've got clearance on site if you ever want to visit." 

 

With this, Newt walked back down the narrow corridor. His hand was on the front door handle, the other one opening the Uber app, when he heard Hermann call his name.

 

Maybe he should have listened.

 

Newt gave himself plenty of time to second guess while he was in the shower that evening. When he got out, he saw a few missed calls from Hermann, and an unopened text.

 

**_The formula predicts an Event tomorrow._ **

 

A sigh.

 

_I'll make sure the PPDC knows that you're excited to be wrong again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things r amping up !!! drama !!! intrigue !!!! SUSPENSE!!!


	13. Chapter 13

Penny was waiting for him the next morning. She was much better outfitted this time, wearing a pair of cargo shorts whose pockets were clearly  _inundated_ with various lab supplies, and a white tank top revealing freckles on her olive skin. Her hair was still pulled back, various bobby pins keeping her curly hair from falling into her eyes. Under one arm was a clipboard, and on the other arm was a camera kit. "Hey, Dr. Geiszler!" She said, nearly sprinting up to him.

 

"Hey, Pen." Newt replied.

 

Newt was still pretty out of it. Hermann's words were echoing in his mind. For a long time, Newt had studied Kaiju science because he knew that it was the easiest way to be considered a genius. If you were quick enough to notice their digestive process, you'd be given a fucking Nobel laureate-- it was a brand new field, leaving an entirely different litmus for success. As he'd gotten further and further into the weeds, it  _had_ become about less than proving assholes wrong and more about the legitimate intellectual challenge of discovering the nuances of Kaiju morphology. That said, Newt couldn't help but feel that he'd only accepted the trip to Onibaba in order to prove something to Stacker.

 

What was he trying to prove? "What's the plan for today?"

 

Penny's voice broke through Newt's clouded thoughts. "Uh, we're gonna--" Newt looked at the towering carcass, chewing on his lip for a moment. "Let's head to the skull." A pause. "Let's head to the head." He chuckled.

 

It ended up being a nearly twenty minute walk to the Kaiju's head.

 

"So what're you trying to figure out?" Penny asked.

 

"I'm sorry?"

 

"What are you going to use this research for?"

 

Newt shrugged. "Understanding your enemy is the first step to defeating them, right?" He asked, tone a bit flat.

 

"Yeah, you're right." Penny replied. "I mean, what is it you don't know yet?"

 

"If I knew what I didn't know, I wouldn't have to be here, would I?" Newt asked.

 

"I guess not." Penny nodded, stepping over a particularly large chunk of Kaiju flesh. "When do you think the next one's landing, Doctor?"

 

A pause. He thought back to Hermann's text. "There's no way to no for sure."

 

"Yeah, not when the Gottlieb Breach Formula's been debunked-"

 

Newt couldn't say why, but the slight at Hermann riled him up. He looked at her, a flash of white-hot rage passing through him before he cleared his throat, cutting her off. "Dr. Gottlieb's formula is groundbreaking, but it's just a theory. Just because a flaw was found in it doesn't mean it's wrong."

 

"I mean, I just- I was told-"

 

"Who told you it'd been debunked?"

 

Silence rang between them for a few moments. "I'm just worried, I've got family on the Rim, and I mean-- knowing a few hours ahead of time... that could save their lives, Doctor Geiszler."

 

"Newt." He said, stopping as they arrived at the Kaiju's skull. "It's Newt."

 

"Right."

 

A stiff and uncomfortable couple of moments passed as Newt marveled at the Kaiju's skull in silence. It was everything he could have hoped for. Newt could still see where the hands of Coyote Tango had dug into its eye socket, deep and jagged gashes in the skull a testament to the scraping of cold metal against the rough exoskeleton. Newt looked at Penny. "Hold this, yeah?" He asked, shrugging off his lab coat and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. A pause. He took off his tie, dropping the tie and lab coat in Penny's arms. "Let me see that camera."

 

Penny, who looked startled yet excited by this development, gave him a handheld point-and-shoot camera. Newt put on the neck strap and approached the skull, clearing his throat.

 

Yes, he was about to climb inside. 

 

No, it was not a remotely good ( or safe ) idea.

 

"You ever been inside a Kaiju skull before, Penny?" Newt asked, putting on a pair of thick gloves, wiping them on his pants before reaching out into one of the many grooves on the bone.

 

"Uh, no." She said, tone clearly tentative. "Uh, D-Newt?"

 

"Yeah?" He replied, sticking one well-polished shoe into a small foothold.

 

"Have you- have _you_ ever climbed in a skull before?"

 

Newt pulled himself up, hand barely finding purchase on another groove before he moved his foot to a small dent in the skull. "No, I haven't." He replied confidently, laughing.

 

"Looks like it's going to be a learning experience for both of us, then." He responded, now about two feet off the ground.

 

"I, uh- I don't know if what you're doing is entirely safe, Doctor." Penny said. 

 

"What, they didn't teach you how to handle situations like this in-" Newt's hand slipped, and for a moment dangled wildly before he found another groove in the bone. "They didn't teach you how to handle this in Intro To Field Studies?" He joked.

 

At the moment, he was about twenty feet from a massive hole in Onibaba's skull. If he could just get there and stick the camera in, if he could just get a few good photos of what the deteriorated cranial cavity looked like, he'd be making progress.

 

Onibaba was unique because unlike the previous Kaiju, it was crustacean in nature. This meant a lot of things, but primarily, it meant that there was very little knowledge of what the inside of its body looked like. Unlike the previous Kaiju, it wasn't rapidly deteriorating. In fact, even after nearly a week of being beached, Onibaba's ribs were barely visible through the cracking outer shell. Examining the internal deterioration of Onibaba's structure would be a priceless experience for Newt, and for the field of Kaiju morphology.

 

"They didn't really teach us much," Penny responded, laughing nerovusly. "I mean, besides how to identify tools. They always assumed we'd have someone, uh- someone working above us."

 

"Well, now you do." Newt joked, hoisting himself up higher, and closer to the orifice. "Let me tell ya something, Pen." He continued, taking a moment to snap a picture of one of the gashes with a tremoring hand before letting the camera go. It bounced against his chest as he continued climbing. "There are no rules for working with Kaiju." a grunt as he pulled himself up. Newt currently found himself perched on a massive dent in Onibaba's skull, large enough to crouch on, but still a good ten feet below the indent he had in mind.

 

He looked down and immediately wished he hadn't. While Newt was hardly far off the ground, it was a safe bet that OSHA was going to have a  _field day_ if it ever found out that he was doing this without any kind of safety nets. "I know this seems unsafe," Newt said, taking a moment to grab some pictures of the deteriorating shell up close, "But it's hard to break the rules when there aren't any."

 

Newt watched Penny look around, then set down her camera bag. "You're really going in there?" She called up to him.

 

"I mean, it'd be in bad taste to turn back at this point, wouldn't it be?" Newt asked, already standing up and brushing his gloves on his pants, rolling his shoulders. 

 

Needless to say, Newt ended up with about 20 photos of Onibaba's cranial cavity and a good number of bruises and scrapes from the trip down. Penny tended to these with diligence, chiding him the whole time, and asking him how such a certified genius could make such poor choices. Newt had responded with the fact that he'd just gotten groundbreaking and wholly unique footage of a new class of Kaiju. Penny hadn't really cared about that part.

 

"Alright, so all in all... productive day, right?" Newt asked, standing at the entrance to the field area with Penny. "I mean, I'd say-- I'd say I did a pretty good job."

 

"Well... I mean, you put yourself in danger."

 

"Listen, Penny. With the amount of radiation I've exposed myself to at this point, just from working with Kaiju  _remains_ \-- I don't think I'm doing anything but accelerating the inevitable. Besides, it's in the name of something great. Breach is helping me use this information to optimize Jaegers in the fight against the Kaiju." He said, "That's what it's about, right? That's what we do it for."

 

"I hope so." Penny replied.

 

Something in her tone troubled him.

 

Newt was about five minutes from the hotel he'd been holed up in when Hermann texted him.

 

 ** _We need to talk_**.

 

Of course they did.

 

_I'll call you when I'm back at the apartment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i wrote two chapters in one day and if someone doesn't alert obama that i've gone and done this then what is it all for
> 
> ANYWAY i swear this is all going to be important, u just gotta lay the groundwork if ur gonna make hashtag money moves ( eye emoji )
> 
> i hope you're still keeping an eye on penny.


	14. Chapter 14

Maybe Newt would look back at all of this and laugh. 

 

After all, it was hard to smile as he sat next to Hermann, looking at an Onibaba tissue sample through a microscope in Hermann’s home lab and as Hermann took verbal notes its radioactive and genetic merits, and claiming that  _ none _ of what they were finding was promising.

 

It’d taken Hermann two days to convince Newt to give him the time of day again.

 

Those two days had been, for Newt, two of the most mentally stimulating days of his life. After he’d been able to provide Breach with the pictures of the inside of Onibaba’s cranial cavity, they’d cracked it open with some  _ very _ un-scientific dynamite. It’d taken a full day alone to record data on the inside of Onibaba’s skull, and another to study and classify tissue structures. Almost every single component of Onibaba’s body fell outside of Newt’s existing classification system for Kaiju forms.

 

Penny had told him that this must have been embarrassing, Newt just said it was thrilling-- which it  _ was _ . By the end of that second day, he was preparing a press release ( under the name of Breach, of course ) about this discovery. It’d been then that Hermann had called Newt, asking if what he’d heard from ‘former partners’ at Breach was true.

 

Newt, who would never pass up a chance to gloat about doing something better than Hermann, had immediately turned off his tablet and scooted his skinny-jean-clad self to Hermann’s townhome with an armful of samples and a smirk smile on his unshaven face.

 

So,  _ that _ was why Newt found himself in his current situation. At that exact moment, he was watching with bated breath as Hermann looked at a sample from Onibaba’s shell, adjusting the lens on the microscope in transfixed silence. Hermann’s lips were pursed in a thin line, tight and stern as ever-

 

Newt decided to stop staring at his rival’s lips. “So, what do you think, Doc?” Newt asked, nudging Hermann’s shoulder. “Pretty great, huh?”

 

Hermann stood up, putting his glasses back on and looking at Newt. “I suppose. The structure isn’t necessarily exceptional.”

 

For some reason, Newt felt offended on Onibaba’s behalf. “That’s- that’s not entirely true. If you look at it, it’s not- I mean, crabs, y’know? They have these hard shells, but they’re made of this tightly packed hair. It’s like a rhino’s horn. But Onibaba is-”

 

“Scaffolding, I know. Like a fish’s scales.”

 

“Yeah, that’s  _ pretty damn exceptional _ ,” Newt countered, pushing his glasses up his nose, gesturing at the microscope. “I mean-- they’re structures from a fish, but they’re constructed in a way that’s crustacean. That’s brilliant.”

 

“Or incredibly lucky.” Hermann replied, “You need to stop acting like they’re a product of intelligent design, Newton. I know you like to look at them like someone’s lego set, but you need to remember that they’re-”

 

“Random, I know.” Newt interrupted, “But they don’t-- they don’t  _ seem _ random. Every Kaiju is just a modified version of the last one, that’s why I have that Lego theory. Onibaba is just the trappings of Reckoner, but constructed in a different way. Look at this-” Newt grabbed another tissue sample, replacing the sample from Onibaba. “Look at that--  _ Look _ .” he said, gesturing frantically for Hermann to examine it.

 

For a moment, Hermann looked at Hermann with the same judgemental gaze as ever, then took off his glasses and leaned into the microscope. 

 

“Hermann, that’s a sample from Reckoner’s claw. It’s just the same.” Newt said, giddy with excitement. “Hermann, it’s the  _ same tissue _ recycled differently. That’s fucking-”

 

“Brilliant?” Hermann interjected, sitting up and putting his glasses back on.

 

“Uh,  _ yeah _ .” 

 

A few moments of silence, and Hermann sighed, sitting back into the sofa. “Newt, this research is groundbreaking, but I don’t know what you hope to prove by supporting a hypothesis you made two years ago.”

 

“I- I mean, this could go in textbooks, Hermann. This is vital to proving that there must be… I mean, if it’s the same bits used over and over again, then there must be some way we can make a biochemical weapon to attack their tissue.”

 

“Why don’t you research that?”

 

“Well, for one, I’m not a chemist.” Newt laughed. “What’s your  _ deal _ , dude?”

 

“You’re not moving forward, Newton. You just keep  _ proving _ your point over and over again. You won’t make history for spending your life patting your back.”

 

It was true, but Newt didn’t want to hear it. He sighed and leaned back into the couch as well, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “When’s the next Kaiju event?” Newt asked.

 

A pause. He watched as Hermann shifted. “It was supposed to be yesterday.” Hermann responded, voice small and indignant.

 

Silence. 

 

Newt didn’t know what to say, so he sat in silence next to Hermann. “So-” Newt cleared his throat. “So, uh…”

 

“I adjusted it using the variable I found under Breach. I can’t publish it, though.”

 

“When did the new variable dictate it would be?”

 

“Tomorrow morning.”

 

Electric silence.

 

They spent the next several hours neglecting Newt’s press release, frantically sorting through endless equations to try and make the problem viable without Rift’s intel.

 

At 5 in the morning the next day, as they stood waist deep in coffee ( for Newt ) and tea ( for Hermann ) and deprived of sleep, the two twenty-five year old scientists received a notification at the same time.

 

**Category III come through the breach. Direction undetermined. Cities along the Pacific Rim, prepare to evacuate.**

 

They had two days to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^) we're really getting into it now, boys.


	15. Chapter 15

It was given the name  _ Itak _ , which Newt thought was fantastic, and Hermann couldn’t take less of an interest in.

 

Given that they were already side-by-side, the duo had ( for the moment ) put aside their differences in approach to Kaiju research and had chosen to, instead, turn on the news and figure out exactly what they were up against.

 

For the moment, Itak seemed intent on circling the Breach. As it was in no rush to get where it was going, Newt and Hermann had the time they needed to grab this bull by the horns ( a fitting turn of phrase, as preliminary scans of Itak’s form revealed two massive, arching spikes emerging from its shoulders ) and take it to task. 

 

Hermann was on the phone with someone at the PPDC, looking stern and speaking in a barely-perceptible tone. Meanwhile, Newt was checking every single resource that he could for information on Itak. 

 

They felt like they were spinning tires in mud. Minutes turned to hours, and before they knew it, it was 9 AM and they’d used every mug in Hermann’s house. Their phones were both out of battery, and they were in varying levels of undress-- last-ditch efforts to loosen up their wardrobe and help them relax. Newt’s shirt was untucked and unbuttoned at the top two buttons, sleeves rolled up, belt discarded on the sofa to let him breathe. Hermann, meanwhile, had taken off the vest that Newt had believed for some time was surgically attached to his body, tie loosened but still around his neck, shoes long since kicked off.

 

In short, they were a trainwreck. Two of the brightest minds of the modern age were up shit creek without any semblance of a paddle.

 

“Newton,” Hermann said, voice groggy but determined as he rose from the counter he’d been leaning on, bringing his laptop over to Newt. “I’ve managed to categorize Itak.”

 

“Oh, sweet.” Newt said, stretching and rising from the sofa, where he’d been lying on his stomach, scrolling through endless live feeds from scientists across the world. “What is it?”

 

“Category three.”

 

An understanding, terrified silence. Until now, the world had never faced anything higher than a category two. Newt’s breath hitched, half out of terror and half out of excitement. He couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

 

“And it’s closing in on Tokyo.”

 

The smile was gone.

 

“Hermann-- do they know?” Newt asked, alluding to the PPDC.

 

“I notified them as soon as I saw the readings.” Hermann replied, tone solemn. “I don’t think that the Mark I Jaegers are equipped for this sort of creature.”

 

Newt’s mouth hung open in a rapt silence.”I- what do we do?”

 

“I don’t know, Newt.”

 

Part of Newt wanted to antagonize Hermann for calling him by his nickname, but for once, his rational brain won out and instead, Newt took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We-- dude, listen, I know it’s crazy, but I think we need to go to the Shatterdome.”

 

Hermann’s silence told Newt that he’d had the same idea. “Rift won’t like you up and leaving like that.”

 

“Rift hasn’t approved of most of the decisions I’ve made since I’ve gotten here.” Newt replied, putting his glasses back on and sighing. “Who am I to ruin that reputation?”

 

“Newton-”

 

“Listen, man.” Newt replied, rising to his feet and buttoning his shirt. “We’ve got this. If we succeed, we’re legends. If we don’t, well-- I don’t know about you, but I can just add it to my running list of failures.”

 

Hermann closed his laptop, tucking it under his arm and exhaling. “I’ll talk to the Marshal.”

 

“You do that. Use some of that frigid, English charm you’ve got going for you.” Newt replied, beginning to pack up his samples with uncharacteristic delicacy. 

 

“It’s not frigid, Newton. It’s-”

 

“Let it go, man.” Newt said, looking up at him. “Just make the call. Let’s pull some strings and stop a monster, yeah?”

 

He watched Hermann take a deep, shuddering breath, clearly holding back a cutting retort. “Very well.”

 

They managed to use their promises of research and solutions as a way to swing a covered flight to the Tokyo Shatterdome due exclusively to the benevolent nature of the PPDC, and by 11:00 that morning, they were sitting in an LAX terminal, waiting for a flight that would take them on the greatest journey of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the current projected timeline for this fic leaves us with the climax at about chapter 30.... hope y'all are buckled in.


	16. Chapter 16

It turned out that a last minute, cost-free flight from California to Tokyo  _ wasn’t _ the height of luxury. The plane was diminutive, and couldn’t have been carrying more than 50 equally disgruntled people. Forty nine of them were lucky enough not to be dealing with the crushing weight of the world on their shoulders. Newt and Hermann had both brought binders, pens, and computers on to the plane with the full intent of working until they landed in Tokyo. Across their tray tables were spirals and bound pamphlets of figures and graphs and charts that made sense to no one but themselves, and they muttered under their breath as they exchanged discoveries and cross-examined thoughts.

 

During the onboarding and taxi, Newt and Hermann ( who were crammed next to each other like two nerdy, miserable, Jewish sardines ) worked ardently on their progress. One moment, they were going over a few rudimentary scans to try and figure out what structures Itak might have, and the next, they were asleep.

 

Newt was jolted awake from a dream that he couldn’t remember by the plane roughly touching down on an uneven runway. As he regained his bearings, Newt realized that he had ended up with his head on Hermann’s shoulder, his glasses having fallen off onto the other man’s lap. The once-organized papers were spread all over the small tables in front of them, and a few had even fallen into the aisle.

 

Newt straightened his neck, rubbing it where it ached from being bent for the entire flight. He looked out the window in a well-rested, thoroughly-confused effort to get his act back together. “Hermann--” he muttered, voice thick from the rest.

 

“Our work-” Hermann interjected, wearily trying to gather up his papers and tap them back into neat stacks. 

 

Newt retrieved his glasses from Hermann’s lap and wiped them on his shirt. “This is really happening,” he said, mostly to himself. He turned on his phone, opening up one of his many Kaiju tracking apps. The flight had been almost twelve hours. Itak was still on its way to Tokyo.

 

“Come on, get your things together.” Hermann said, a non-answer to the personal revelation. “We’ve got people waiting for us.”

 

It took them ten minutes in total to get off the plane and to the baggage claim, where they picked up a single duffel ( shared, Newt hadn’t gone home, thus having packed only his specimens. Hermann had packed four different outfits ) and were picked up by an escort in a  _ very-important looking _ PPDC car.

 

It was going to be a two-hour drive until they arrived at the Shatterdome. To maximize on time, Newt and Hermann laid out all their paperwork again, fighting to stay awake after a barely-sufficient rest.

 

“Alright. Alright.” Newt said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We’ve got this.”

 

“Focus. How fast is Itak moving?” Hermann asked.

 

“Uh-- I don’t know. It’s calculated to make landfall in thirty hours. That’s--- that’s not enough time. But there’s never enough time, is there?” Newt asked, sifting through a pile of papers.

 

“We’ve been running on borrowed time ever since Trespasser made landfall, Newton. Focus on the present, and quit pouting.” Hermann said, crouching over a notepad covered in recently-scrawled notes. 

 

“Quit pouting,” Newt mocked, shaking his head. He took a few notes on the projected destination of Itak, then set down his pencil and looked up at Hermann. “What are we going to tell them when we get there?” He asked.

 

“Well, I imagine-”

 

“I mean-- I can give them Kaiju trivia until I’m blue in the face, but that isn’t going to change the fact that we have a second Kaiju going for a major population center, and we aren’t armed against it.”

 

“We have to-”

 

“Hermann, are we going to have to be the people that tell them they’re fucked?”

 

Hermann took a deep breath through his nose and looked at Newt. “They don’t have to be done for, Newton. That’s why we’re here. Now get your work done, so we have something to show to the Marshal when we get there.”

 

Newt shook his head, but kept his focus on the papers in front of him.

 

Over the next few hours, they both managed to drum up enough information to show that they at least new enough about Itak to stand a fighting chance. While they still didn’t entirely have a plan of implementation, Newt had a feeling ( as naive as it might have been ) that they might be able to throw their weight around.

 

It was six in the afternoon, local time, when Newt and Hermann arrived at the Shatterdome.

 

While he’d been to many Shatterdomes around the globe, Newt always found the structures to be impossibly massive. He and Hermann left the car, greeted by a series of impressive military uniforms, all appearing equally disinterested in the duo’s presence. All confidence that Newt had bolstered on the way there instantly evaporated, and he found himself at a loss.

 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” A strong, feminine voice said. “My name’s Marshal Sanchez. It’s an honor to have you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took a lot of restraint not to include an 80's montage of newt and hermann waking up at various points on the flight, realizing that they were cuddling, and consciously choosing to do nothing about it. even though i didn't write it, please assume that it happened anyway.
> 
> also i KNOW these chapters are short, but trust me. you've got some BIG BOYS coming up in the future. take my word for it


	17. Chapter 17

Hermann unfroze first. “Good evening, Marshal.” He said, then shook her hand firmly.

 

“Doctor Gottlieb and Doctor Geiszler-” She said, looking at each of them and nodding her head in what Newt felt would be the closest thing to a bow that he’d be getting out of the stern, distinctly  _ Latina _ woman that was greeting them. “- Let me show you what we’re working with.”

 

With that, Marshal Sanchez turned on her heel and began to walk towards the Dome. Newt and Hermann exchanged equally lost gazes, then came to an unspoken agreement to just  _ follow _ her. 

 

The Shatterdome was swarming with activity. Why wouldn’t it be? After all, a brand new class of Kaiju was about to come for the  _ definitely _ unprepared Jaeger defense line. People whose faces were hidden by hard hats and brightly colored goggles ushered large engines in and out of a colossal loading bay, where Newt could just barely make out the shape of a Jaeger’s foot. Mechanics swarmed its surface like frenzied ants, clearly trying to get everything into working condition before the face-off with Itak.

 

The duo was brought inside, faced with more of the same strict chaos. Neon signs and flying sparks brought a strange life to the Shatterdome, where each person was doing a distinctly unique and important job, yet the entire task force seemed to blend into a single, living mechanism desperately repairing itself before its aggressor came back for round two. The Marshal spoke to Newt and Hermann as she led them through the bay.

 

“I know that you’re fairly familiar with J-Tech, Doctor Gottlieb,” She said, “But for Doctor Geiszler’s benefit, I’ll explain the current circumstances. Currently, we have Coyote Tango, Tacit Ronin, and Echo Saber in working condition. Now, it’s important to keep in mind that just  _ working _ condition won’t do for Itak. While we’ve done a good job of keeping the true nature of the threat that Itak presents to the Corps under wraps, it’s only a number of time until everyone finds time to stop working, and to turns on the radio.” 

 

They stepped into an elevator. Sanchez pressed a button marked ‘LO’, and the doors shut.

 

“Time is of the essence, gentlemen.” She said, “We’re putting on upgrades that haven’t been beta tested, just in hopes of being able to  _ hold off _ Itak. A team of mechanics are working on one of the Mark-2s, but…” Unflappable confidence wavered. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

 

The elevator opened, revealing another universal feature of all Shatterdomes: LOCCENT. Endless arrays of buttons and displays gave the room a warm, lively glow. Every panel was occupied, and ever face looking at them terrified. At the head of the room stood a man that Newt failed to get a good look at before Sanchez demanded his attention. 

 

“I apologize, but this is where I leave you. As all Shatterdomes are built the same, I’m sure you two will be able to find your way around. If you need help, ask someone with empty hands-- if you can find one. Then tell them to find something to do.” She said, offering a close lipped smile. “I wish I had time to be more hospitable, but there’s hardly enough time to bring you young men in. Please, when you see me again, bring me some good news.”

 

With that, Sanchez hurried to the front of the LOCCENT center, where she was greeted by a man who appeared too tall and too important for Newt to even look at for too long. He looked at Hermann.

 

“We, uh- we should probably get some work done.”

 

“Excellent idea, Newton.” He said, and together they turned and took a hallway past the elevator, and towards where the K-Science lab  _ usually _ was located. When they opened the door, however, they found a series of desks, all occupied by frantic, young professionals who were dressed  **very** well and looked  **very** afraid.

 

Interns. Newt was about to say something when someone walked right up to them, two coffees in one hand, and his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

 

He looked like he’d written the book on dressing well. The gentleman couldn’t have been much older than Newt and Hermann, but dressed like he was in his late forties. His entire outfit was a series of very bold fashion choices: a red bow tie, crimson suspenders, a distinctly navy button-up, and high-waisted tweed pants that would not have worked on any other person. “Hey, gentlemen. Is there something I can do for ya today?” He asked.

 

“Uh, yeah.” Newt said, the first to speak-- as he often was. “Is this, uh… is this K-Science?” 

 

A pause, and the coif smiled. “Oh, man. You must be those guests we were told about. Yeah, right this way.” He said, turning and beginning to walk through the desks. He looked over his shoulder at Newt and Hermann. “The Hong Kong Shatterdome’s got this program for college kids and grad students. You know, put in a few hours here during the week, and they pay for your school and promise you a job in the Corps if you do your work right. I’m on my third year, but some of these guys.... I mean, some of them haven’t even gotten their first quarterly report.” 

 

They moved past a set of surgical curtains, and in to what was  _ definitely _ a K-Science lab.

 

“Here, this is, uh-- this is where you set up shop. I know it’s not much, but it turns out that there’s not a  _ single _ room in this place that wasn’t being used.”

 

“So they gave away the one room that’s used the most.” Hermann replied.

 

“Well, there’s a whole board of directors that would beg to differ.” The guy smiled. “Hey, I’ve got some work to do, but let me know if you need anything. Name’s Tendo. Uh-- don’t have too much fun, alright?” He said, with a smile and a wink and a wave, somehow doing all the gestures in a single fluid motion.

 

Then he was gone, and Newt and Hermann were in a vacuum of silence.

 

“Newt, I must be honest with you.”

 

“Oh, you weren’t being honest  _ before _ ?” 

 

“Well… I made a promise to the Marshal.”

 

A pause. Newt looked at Hermann with equal parts despair and intrigue. “What did you promise her?”

 

“I- I told her we could engineer a biological weapon against the Kaiju.”

 

“You did  _ what _ ?”

 

“It was the only way to get us closer to it, Newton. Surely you understand bending the rules.”

 

“Yes, Hermann, I break the rules, but I don’t  _ lie _ !” Newt replied. “You do understand the difference between the two, right?” He asked, looking around the unfamiliar lab helplessly. “Hermann, I don’t know if I can do that.”

 

“What about your work on Onibaba?” Hermann asked.

 

“You should know that Breach has me turn in all my field notes at the end of the day. They’re the ones who get all my work! Besides those tissue samples I brought and my previous work, I’ve got nothing.”

 

“Then we’ll make that work. We have to. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

 

“But you do say things you can’t back up.”

 

“Not now, Newton. We need to get to work.”

 

So they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These guys are really getting caught up in it.
> 
>  
> 
> Nothing is happening by accident.
> 
>  
> 
> Let's see if I can crank out a little more action before I crash for the night.


	18. Chapter 18

“The problem isn’t that I don’t know what I’m doing, the problem is that I don’t have the right tools.” Newt argued, pointing a pipette at Hermann. “If, while we were still in the States, you’d said something along the lines of ‘Mm, I do say, Newton, we will be attempting to create a genetic nuke for the Kaiju’, I might have packed some tools.” He dropped some solution on a tissue sample. “I guess it was more important to use, I don’t know, the  _ element of surprise _ , than it was to tell your research partner that you were about to create a biochemical weapon.” He stood up, carrying the petri dish over to a small black light. “Lucky for you, though, I’m a madly brilliant prodigy who has chosen to grace you with his presence and intellect, and I’ve made it work.” He watched closely as the solution interacted with the Kaiju tissue. “What I’m still trying to figure out, is where the hell the rest of their K-Science division is.”

 

Newt looked up at Hermann, to find that the man in question had been staring intently at a display the entire time, not listening to a word he said. Newt sighed and stood up, crossing to where Hermann was sitting. “Hey, Herm.” He said, arms crossed as he leaned over the man’s shoulder. “Did you catch any of that?”

 

“No.” Hermann answered, in a flat and detached tone that told Newt that Hermann hadn’t been paying attention to reality for quite some time.

 

“To be honest, I’d rather have you arguing with me than have you ignoring me completely.” Newton muttered, trying to make sense of the figures on Hermann’s screen.

 

“Noted.” 

 

“What’s this? Are you making a tally of all the things I’ve done to annoy you?”

 

“No,” Hermann replied, taking off his glasses and turning his head, looking up at Newt. “I don’t know why I would.”

 

A sigh. “It was a joke, Hermann. Surely you’ve heard of those?”

 

“I don’t believe I have.”

 

Newt’s breath hitched. Something in him realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t sure why this suddenly felt like such pressing information. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t sure why suddenly the only thing in the world that seemed to matter was the flat line that Hermann’s lips were pressed into. 

 

Suddenly, the genius rockstar badass legend Newton Geiszler was at a loss for words. 

 

He reminded himself to breathe.

 

“Uh, good job.” Newt said, standing up straight and swallowing a lump in his throat. “Keep up the work, champ.” He patted Hermann stiffly on the shoulder, crossing back to the petri dish and sitting in his chair with a huff. 

 

“Have you discovered anything yet, Newton?” The words came a few moments after Newt had hunched over the dish again. The sound of Hermann’s voice was like an oasis in a desert.

 

“Uh, no.” Newt replied. “The problem is, the tissue isn’t of this Earth, y’know? I can’t just- it doesn’t just  _ corrode _ in acid. It… it mutates. I know for a fact that Kaiju Blue can eat through their tissue once it leaves circulation, that’s why-- that’s why they decompose so quickly, that’s why they’re so volatile, but…” Newton chewed his lip and shook his head. “But Blue is completely different from any natural substance.”

 

“You have nothing?” Hermann asked, accusatory.

 

“Well… I don’t know. I don’t.” Newt replied, taking off his goggles and rubbing his eyes. “If I had the data from Onibaba, I could… I could bridge the gap. I could use more recent tissue, but I can’t tell if it’s breaking down from natural entropy or because I’ve found something legitimately corrosive.” Newt shook his head.

 

Hermann’s disapproving silence, while a familiar facet of their exchanges, only rubbed salt in Newt’s wound. 

 

“I need to get someone at Breach to conduct experiments for me, on Onibaba’s corpse.” Newt continued, turning on his stool to look at Hermann. “I- that’s it. That’s it!” He said, rising to his feet, feeling as if he’d just found the answer to the universe. “I have to get-- Penny will do it. I’ll have Penny conduct the experiments on my behalf.” Newt grinned. “Hermann, we’ve got this in the bag. It’s going to---  _ we’re _ going to be fine!”

 

His enthusiasm wasn’t mirrored. Hermann simply sighed, standing up and picking up one of his clipboards and turning to face Newt. “You want to use Breach’s private data?” He asked.

 

It was then that Newt remembered Hermann’s warning from only a few days ago. Suddenly, he felt very, very stupid. “I-” he felt crushed, his high stopped at its peak. “I--”

 

“Newton, it’s against the rules.” Hermann said, standing up and returning to his chair, “But if memory serves me well, rules have never stopped you from doing what was right.”

 

Newt knew what he had to do.

 

He ran out of the lab, nearly tripping over Tendo, who was standing by someone’s desk and talking to them about a PONS piece that they were repairing. Newt could barely manage an apology as he ran out the door of the lab, and into the winding Shatterdome hallway. One elevator ride later, he was making his way through the Jaeger bay and standing on the expansive deck of the Shatterdome.

 

Two bars. It’d have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few things.
> 
> 1\. i literally cannot explain why i uploaded so many chapters today?? i am just so excited for what the story's getting into
> 
> 2\. this chapter didn't really need to exist but i felt the need to really twist the slow burn knife, yknow? 
> 
> 3\. big things are coming up. massive things. get prepped.


	19. Chapter 19

“Heyyyyy, Penny.” Newt said, expression as much of a grimace as it was a smile. “How ya doin’?”

 

“I’ll be honest, Doctor. I’ve been covering for you for about two hours and I’m running out of excuses, so I’ve been better.”

 

Oh, right. Newt had a real life job with a real life lab that was counting on him to give them groundbreaking Kaiju research. “Yeah, sorry about that, Pen.” Newt said, scratching his stubble. “I’ll make it up to you when I’m back in town.”

 

“Back in town?” Her shocked, shrill tone crackled through the small speaker in the phone. “Doctor Geiszler, where the hell are you?”

 

Newt laughed. “Are you sitting down? You might want to.”

 

“I’ll risk it.”

 

“Fair. I’m on the other side of the ocean.”

 

A loud sigh. “Why? What are you  **_DOING_ ** ?”

 

“Am I allowed to say it’s confidential?”

 

“You could, but that doesn’t mean I won’t pry.”

 

Newt laughed. “Fine.” A pause. “Penny, how loyal would you say that you are to Rift?”

 

“Considering they funded all of my graduate research and are currently paying my rent? Fairly loyal.”

 

“Alright, how much do you not want the world to end?”

 

“Not at all. What are you getting at, Doctor?”

 

“Alright, uhhh…” Newt paused, pursing his lips for a moment. “I need you to conduct some field research on Onibaba and give me the results without letting Rift know that we’re both committing major breaches of contract.”

 

“No way in hell,” Penny’s answer was instant. “I get that this is a regular career move for you, but they’ll send the dogs after me. I don’t have anything to fall back on. Find someone else to help.”

 

“Penny, please.” Newt said, “Don’t you understand what’s on the line?” He looked around and lowered his voice. “Itak’s a Category Three. The Mark Ones aren’t remotely armed for this kind of threat. They’ll get gored. Me and my partner are trying to create a biological weapon that can weaken or destroy Kaiju tissue, but I’m working with samples that are way too small to read. All I need-”

 

“Doctor Geiszler.” Penny interjected, “I’m sorry, but… I can’t do it.”

 

Sincerely at a loss, Newt swore under his breath. “Alright. I’ll let the Marshal know.”

 

“Wait-”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re at a Shatterdome?” Penny asked. “Why can’t they give you Kaiju samples? They should be able to take care of you. I can’t believe you would ask me to risk my job for something that you should be  _ entitled  _ to.”

 

Newt was in dangerous proximity to losing his shit. “You’re telling me things that I already know, Penny. They’ve got nothing here, this place is entirely focused on Jaeger development. They’ve even got the first Mark IIs underway. They don’t care about  _ understanding _ Kaijus, they just want to  _ destroy _ them.” He shook his head. “It’s ridiculous and shortsighted. If they had the right scientists on staff, they would have been much more well-prepared for this. I mean, Category Three was inevitable. It was only a matter of time, and now time’s out, and we’re out of luck, and the only person that can help is more worried about their own career than they are about literally  _ every other person on earth _ .”

 

A long silence. “I’m sorry, Newt.”

 

He hung up. Pocketing his phone in frustration and kicking a loose piece of plastic, Newt finally felt himself beginning to collapse under the insurmountable pressure of his circumstances. He returned to the lab, spending the journey there on mentally formulate the best way to break the news to Hermann.

 

“Hey, Hermann.” Newt said, closing the curtain that sectioned their lab away from the mess of desks at the front of the room. “I just got off the phone with Penny.”

 

“What did she say?” He asked, looking up from a seemingly nonsensical arrangement of notes and charts. 

 

“No, of course.”

 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Newton-”

 

“I don’t need your chiding right now, Hermann.” Newt said, crossing to the petri dish he’d been working with previously, looking at the now largely-liquefied mixture in the shallow dish. “I just need to figure this out.” He continued, dumping the dish in a very not-sanitary garbage bin. “I need your help.”

 

Under no previous circumstances had Newt ever imagine he’d find himself verbally and sincerely asking Hermann for help in a laboratory setting. Then again, under no previous circumstances had Newt thought that he’d find himself desperately trying to research a biological weapon against a Category III Kaiju. It was an era of firsts, apparently.

 

“Very well,” Hermann responded. “Here is what I’ve figure out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway these disaster boys have about twenty hours to do some science, eat some food, and get their acts together. Let's see if they've got it.


	20. Chapter 20

“Itak’s been moving closer to the surface as it closes in on the coast,” Hermann said, “And I’ve managed to get some aerial photos of it. I’ve calculated Itak’s actual size, and-- Newton, it’s massive. Not only is it massive, but it has six bioluminescent arms. This is a  _ weapon _ , Newton. It’s terrifying, this thing is going to snap those Mark Ones in half.” Hermann shuddered and handed Newt a page covered in notes, accompanied with a look that told Newt that he was supposed to understand what the scrawls said. 

 

“Uh, right. That’s horrible.” Newt turned the page over. “I don’t know how that’s supposed to help me, but thanks.” 

 

“No, hear me out, Newton. Listen. Open your ears.” Hermann said, “I don’t know as much about Kaiju biology as you might, but I’ve managed to gather some pictures of it breaking surface. If we can compare the visible tissue to Onibaba-”

 

“- Then we might be able to find out which type of Kaiju tissue to target.” Newt said, nodding and handing the paper of notes, which he still had not read, back to Hermann. “And I won’t have to test on all these different samples, I can-” Newt nodded, grinning. “I can find a way to cause enough surface wounds that the Jaegers can target vital organs, and cripple Itak. It’ll give them a fighting chance.”

 

“Yes, Newton. Correct.” Hermann said, then let out a shuddering sigh. “And time is of the essence. It’s picking up pace.” He continued, “We’ve got ten hours. In six hours, it’ll be visible from the shoreline.” Hermann swallowed a lump in his throat. “We don’t have much time.”

 

“That’s fine,” Newt said, already kicking into high gear as he picked up the few remaining untouched Onibaba samples and setting them down on the table. “All I need-- all I need is one good trial run of whatever I come up with. That, and silence.” A beat. “No, not silence. The opposite of that. What do you think we’d have to do for some AC/DC?” Newt asked.

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“Either we can listen to music and I can go into full 80’s montage of biological weapon development, or we can sit in silence and my soul can slowly die.” 

 

Newt watched as every single muscle in Hermann’s jaw clenched. “You don’t need music to work.”

 

“Guess we aren’t gonna save the day after all,” Newt said.

 

“You’re being ridiculous, Newton.” Hermann snapped, “How am I supposed to focus when you’re playing music so loud that I can’t think?”

 

“What, gotta punch some more buttons on a calculator so you feel important, Hermann?” Newt asked, “Wanna do some addition while I single handedly design a weapon that I am objectively not qualified to design, in hopes that we don’t get eaten alive by a six-armed lizard?”

 

They stared at each other in steely, tense silence for several seconds.

 

Then Tendo walked in. “Heyyyyyy guys,” he said with a convincingly suave air, “I heard something about music? We’ve got some speakers out there that we use to listen to podcasts sometimes. If you want, I could hook up some tunes. I make a great DJ.”

 

Newt slowly turned his gaze from Hermann to Tendo, his gaze softening. It was hard to be angry at someone who looked like they had an elvis impersonation at 7, and their first communion at 7:30. He felt himself relax. “Yes, that’d be great. Thanks, man.” 

 

“Oh, awesome. We’ve got a playlist-”

 

“Great. Play it.” 

 

Newt was already returning his focus to his workbench, pulling from a very limited reserve of preserved chemicals stored in the lab to make the perfect cocktail to take down Itak.

 

As the opening chords for  _ You Shook Me All Night Long _ began to play, Newt dropped some hydrofluoric acid on to a sample, which sizzled and steamed, but sustained no notable damage. He sighed and sat up straight, immediately bumping into something  _ very _ human. 

 

He nearly yelped. “Christ” Newt muttered, looking up to find that Hermann had been watching the procedure over his shoulder. “Haven’t you heard of personal space?”

 

“Yes,” Hermann replied, still leaning over Newt and watching as the sample reacted with the acid. “But I think the need for a second opinion on your procedure is a little more important than your comfort.” 

 

Newt decided to let Hermann have this one. He hunched over again, pulling away from Hermann’ only then realizing how warm Hermann had felt. Newt clenched his jaw and focused on his work. “Well, let me know if you have any grand breakthroughs while you’re breathing down my neck. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

 

“Have you tried Lye?” Hermann asked. 

 

Yes, he had. “Yeah. It only reacts with the epidermis of the Kaiju, it has no effect on the fat or any underlying tissue. It’s basically a second-degree burn. It’s a dead end.” 

 

“Have you found anything that chews through the fat?”

 

“I- yes.” Newt said, “What are you getting at? I can’t make a compound of the two acids, it’d be too unstable, and there’d be no way to transport it.”

 

“You don’t need a compound, Newton.” Hermann replied, “You could drop them in waves. First the acid to melt the skin, and then to melt the fat. Two runs.”

 

Newt paused, holding a vial of hydrochloric acid and turning it under a light. “That… that could work.” He said, “But there’s no way to test it. I don’t have a cross-section of Kaiju tissue.”

 

“Maybe the Marshal has some.”

 

“I doubt it.” Newt said, setting down the vial and swivelling the chair, looking up at Hermann and choosing to ignore the way that their knees brushed. “Why’d you do this, man? You know i”m not a chemist. Is this-- are you trying to prove something to me? What, that I’m clueless?”

 

Hermann looked disappointed, though that was hardly a development. “Newton, I’m a lot of things, but I’m not evil.” He said, taking his glasses off and dropping them so that they hung around his neck. Something about the gesture made Hermann seem a bit vulnerable. Almost. “I made the promise of the weapon because I had good faith that you’d be able to do pull this off. You know Kaiju DNA like the back of your hand, and you’ve spent years microanalyzing every structure in their bodies. You were the best person I knew for this task. I’m not doing this to hurt you, I’m doing this because you’re the only person that can help.” He let this sentence hang, then put his glasses back on, turning away and returning to his desk. “Do me a favor and prove me wrong one more time.”

 

Fair bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've done it .... we are at chapter twenty. there are some BROAD STROKES coming up. action is rising. it's wild
> 
> did i know that my ldr newmann au would become a venture into the practicality of biological weapons on the kaiju threat? no. am i taking ownership of the place that my story has ended up? yes. 
> 
> @tendochoL on twitter, @destinae on tumblr. 
> 
> i also wanted to take a moment to thank lyd, who drew the first fanart for this fic? it's so wild to think that my big dum story inspired someone, here's a link to the work they made! http://lydkyd-art.tumblr.com/post/172709563633/destinae-has-a-great-fic-called-subtle-ironies please be sure to give them some love, it was such a kind gesture and totally flattering to my work.
> 
> thanks to all of you to following along with this story thus far!


	21. Chapter 21

“Hey, Marshal!” Newt called out, arms pumping and chest heaving he sprinted down the hallway towards LOCCENT, where Sanchez was talking to the chief LOCCENT officer, who still seemed  _ way _ too cool for Newt. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, we’ve got a big breakthrough.”

 

“Good to hear. Give me a minute-”

 

“Yeah, not to rush you, but we’ve got about two hours before Itak is visible from the shoreline, so I’d suggest you come down to the K-Science so that we can show you what we’ve gotten done with the w- the project.” Newt said, tone urgent.

 

Over the last three hours, Newt and Hermann had shifted into high gear. While Newt had worked with various compounds to try and find the right match for Kaiju tissue, Hermann had disappeared into the Jaeger bay. While they both knew that the Shatterdome had disposed of any properly-preserved Kaiju samples, there was a good chance that bits from Onibaba were still being picked out of some of the Jaegers-- especially since the finishing refurbishments were being added to them. With the right authority and jargon, Hermann had been able to salvage enough tissue for one trial.

 

Meanwhile, Newt had come up with a kind-of answer. He had accepted that there was no way that he could create a Kaiju-killing weapon on such short notice, but using Hermann’s suggestions and his own findings, he’d been able to design something that could offer a temporary solution that  wouldn’t kill Itak, especially given its size, but would give the Mark Is a fighting chance.

 

“Alright, Doctor Geiszler.” The Marshal replied, nodding at the LOCCENT Chief and turning entirely to Newt. “What have you found?”

 

“Let’s walk and talk,” Newt replied, and began to Lead the Marshal towards the K-Science lab. “First of all, I know it’s horrible timing, but I’d like to strongly suggest that you upsize your K-Science division, and stop shoving your interns in the lab. That place has enough residual radiation to fuel several lawsuits. You’re digging your own grave, really,” Newt replied as they turned a corner. “And theirs. But I’ll digress. We’ve done some work on Kaiju tissue. We found that even partially-deteriorated tissue is actually really fuckin’ resilient. I’ve got some great ideas involving using Kaiju remains as armor for Jaegers, but I’ll keep that admittedly cool idea for after I’m done blowing your mind and saving the day.” Newt smirked. “Uh, so here’s what we’ve got. We can’t kill the Kaiju, but we can cripple it pretty badly.” 

 

They entered the intern office, and a parade of waves and  _ what’s up, Marshall Sanchez _ interrupted anything Newt could’ve said.

 

Newt stopped outside of the curtain that kept the lab separate from the interns’ desks. “Just a fair warning, it’s not going to be pretty,” Newt said, “But it’s the best bet we have.”

 

He pulled open the curtain and revealed the workspace.

 

All the desks and tables and computers had been pushed against the walls of the lab, and in the middle of it on a  _ massive _ pushcart lay an impressive chunk of Kaiju. It had to be about the size of a Volkswagen bug, and featured the major tissues that the weapon would attack: the thick but fleshy outer layer of hard tissue, and just below, a misshapen, and torn mass of muscle tissue and fat. The structure was a crude cross-section of what they could only  _ guess _ Itak’s cranial structure looked like. Newt decided not to mention how much guesswork was going into their model.

 

“Thank you for your time,” Hermann accompanied the welcome with a stiff bow of the head. “We’ve assembled something of a scale model of our weapon to this chunk of Kaiju that we were able to salvage from your hangar.” He explained, “The theory is simple: two passes of different corrosive chemicals will essentially give the Kaiju an acid burn-- that should weaken it enough for-”

 

“Let’s just show her, Doc.” Newt interrupted, putting on a lab coat and grabbing a pair of thick gloves. “Marshal, I suggest wearing a helmet, because the Kaiju’s isn’t gonna be the only one getting its mind blown.”

 

“Apologies, Marshal. Doctor Geiszler-” Hermann began

 

“Just show me the weapon.” Sanchez interrupted. 

 

“Very well.” Hermann said. “So, first is this acid, it will be contained in a combustible shell that will hopefully break any protective outer tissue that Itak has, and get into the tender epidermal layer.” 

 

Newt picked up a large metal vat, pouring it somewhat clumsily over the closest side of the Kaiju sample. It sizzled and bubbled, the flesh turning a unappetizing greenish brown and melting away to reveal a dark blue mass. “ _ Bazinga _ .” Newt muttered under his breath, a massive grin on his face as his guesswork paid off.

 

“I’m sorry?” Marshal Sanchez asked.

 

“Don’t mind him.” Hermann interjected, “The next step involves another bomb. It’ll be incendiary, containing a payload of highly corrosive acid. It will melt through the muscle and fat tissue, and soften Itak’s bone structure. Then, it’s just the job of the Jaeger to exploit that vulnerable spot to disable the primary brain.”

 

This was when Newt poured another vat of significantly  _ less friendly-looking _ acid on the growing gash in the tissue. The reaction was more violent this time, and Newt actually took a few steps back as a large bubble formed in the tissue, popping and sizzling loudly, melting in on itself and stopping only once it had reached the large pushcart underneath the mass, which was becoming warped by the small puddle of acid. Newt set the vat down and took his gloves off. “Hell yes!” He shouted, punching the air and looking at the Marshal, “We did it. We make the weapon. You’re welcome. When you dedicate the expanded K-Science wing, be sure to slap my name on there.” He glanced at Hermann. “Put his up too, but a little smaller, and under mine. At least three font points smaller, if you could.” Newt continued.

 

“This is good,” The Marshal said, “But I need to know how long it's’ going to take to get all the components of these weapons, and when it can be assembled by.”

 

“I’ve already made considerations,” Hermann said. “During your refurbishments, you updated the ballistics in Coyote Tango. If you can give us a staff of about half a dozen mechanics, the bombs could be ready within the hour.”

 

Sanchez exhaled. “This is the first good news I’ve received since Itak came through. Gottlieb, I need you to go down to the bay now-- Tacit’s updates are finished, I’ll put the entire team on creating the payloads.” She looked at the still-sputtering Kaiju sample. “Just one more question for you two gentlemen.”

 

“What’s up?” Newt asked.

 

“How will they be transported?”

 

Both of them remained in stunned silence.

 

“Under normal circumstances, we’d be able to secure a payload to Coyote or Echo, but their frames are completely overhauled, and they’re loaded up with as much firepower as we could get our hands on.” The Marshal continued, “We could get them in a Jumphawk, but they aren’t armed for an automated release. We don’t have the crew.” She sighed. “I’m thankful for your advances, but I don’t think this is viable.”

 

“How much more crew would you need?” Newt asked.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“How many people would you need in order to drop the payloads from a Jumphawk?”

 

“Well… two.”

 

Newt and Hermann exchanged the same, understanding look. “Marshal-”

 

“Out of the question.” She replied, “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. You’re not trained-”

 

“To press a button?” Newt asked. “With all due respect, Marshal, we’ve come this far, and I’m not about to give up just because I haven’t gone to robot school.” 

 

“I think what Doctor Geiszler is trying to say,” Hermann said, “Is that we’re fairly smart men, and we promise that we are certainly capable of quickly learning how to drop a bomb.”

 

The Marshal was silent. She looked at the two of them. “Fine. Geiszler, come with me. I’m going to get you outfitted in a Jumphawk suit. Once construction has begun on the payloads, Gottlieb, I’m going to want to see you too. How long until Itak’s visible?”

 

Hermann glanced at a running clock on one of the displays. “An hour and a half.”

 

“Time is of the essence, gentlemen. Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RISING ACTION! RISING ACTION! RISING ACTION!
> 
> It's so wild to me that I've actually managed to get the story to this point. Let's get these boys in these helicopters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	22. Chapter 22

Honestly, Newt was just thankful to have the opportunity to get cleaned off. He’d been wearing his ‘professional clothes’ for about three days at that point, and hadn’t had a chance to take a shower. He hadn’t slept since the flight, either. Newt almost collapsed from fatigue as he stood under the running water of the barrack shower, feeling the exhaustion and reality of the last few days really dig their claws in. He knew, however, that his day was long from over, so he turned the water hotter in hopes that it would wake him up.

 

After twenty minutes of staring into the showerhead and letting the water run down his face while he tried to drum up his remaining energy, Newt stepped out into the barracks, where the Marshal had been kind enough to lay out a Jumphawk uniform for him. It was a dark, gunmetal grey jumpsuit with crimson red accents running up and down the sides. It had clearly been worn before, but seemed to have no damage or stains. On the back, in a faded bold script, were the words,  _ Coyote Tango _ . On the front right lapel,  _ Jumphawk Operator _ . 

 

Not in a thousand years had Newt ever thought he’d be preparing to drop a chemical bomb on a Category III Kaiju off the bay of Tokyo. It all felt so sudden and terrifying and far too real-- he felt  _ deeply _ unprepared. Newt put on the jumpsuit, looking in a mirror mounted on the wall and admiring the way that the gathered wrists and ankles really accented his stocky physique. Sans still-damp hair, he  _ almost _ looked like a guy who knew what he was doing.

 

A few sharp knocks at the door. The world was calling.

 

“Who’s there?” His call was answered with Marshal Sanchez standing in the now-open barrack door. She’d changed out of formal dress and into a combat uniform, which was  _ not _ as loved as Newt’s jumpsuit. It was ripped and stained all over. This was an outfit with a story. “Alright, Geiszler. We’ve got just enough time to instruct you and Doctor Gottlieb on deploying the payload before we start drop procedures. Come with me.”

 

Newt glanced back in the mirror. He noticed two things. First, that his ass looked  _ really good _ in that jumpsuit, and second, that he was doing a horrible job of hiding his anxiety. “Right. Let’s go, chief.”

 

They walked in silence out of the barracks, crossing an impressive catwalk and then exiting the hangar, where they arrived at two Jumphawks parked on the massive Shatterdome helipad. While Newt had thought the deck had been chaotic when he’d arrived, that level of chaos barely held a candle to the current state of affairs on the Shatterdome’s deck. Teams- about thirty to forty people  _ per Jaeger _ \-- were scuttling through the suddenly very small outdoor area, ushering in all sorts of tech and moving like their lives depended on it. Probably because they did.

 

Cancelling the apocalypse wasn’t a spectator sport anymore. As Newt and the Marhsal closed in on a small crowd gathered around the Jumphawks, Newt spotted Hermann, who was wearing a similarly well-fitting jumpsuit, and fiddling with the arm of his glasses as he talked to one of the pilots. As soon as Hermann spotted Newt, he dropped the conversation and walked to the two of them. He and greeted them both with a nod. “Marshall, Newton. I’ve been talking to the pilots, and-”

 

“Hermann, I’ve already been told of your disapproval of the Jumphawk engine mechanics. After this all ends, we can discuss how to improve the torque. Until then, though, I really need your absolute focus while I instruct you on this. Come here.” The Marshal instructed, walking to the nearest Jumphawk and stepping inside of an open sliding door. She crouched, looking down at a large, hinged double door on the floor of the hawk. It was right behind the cramped front seats, and just in front of a large crate that held  _ very thick _ cords. “This is the bomb bay door. The doors actually haven’t served much purpose since we automated the process of attaching cables to the Jaegers. You honestly just lucked out.” She paused. “To open the bomb bay, there’s a simple series of steps. The payload will already be in place, so all you have to do is-- watch.” The Marshal crooked her finger, signalling the two to lean in. 

 

Sanchez pointed to an impressive and dimly-lit panel on the inside of the Jumphawk. “Make sure that the pilot knows you’re about to drop the payload. There will be a  _ significant _ decrease in weight, so they’ll need to adjust for the change in weight. Flip this switch, and it disengages a safety clamp on the inside of the door. Then, push this button. It will turn on a bright red light, and it’ll give you three seconds to get away from the bomb bay door before the payload trips.” She said, “Simple. You got it?”

 

Newt and Hermann both nodded. 

 

The Marshall stood up. “Alright.” She said, “Show me what to do.”

 

As Newt and Hermann were both literal geniuses who had invented an entire field of science, they were able to perform the procedure from memory on their first try. Sanchez looked at them and nodded, lips pursed. “Alright. So here’s what we’ll do. As soon as Itak is visible on the horizon, you two are going to get in these Hawks and drop the payload.  _ Tango _ ,  _ Ronin _ , and  _ Saber _ will be right behind you. Drop the bombs, and get out. Your pilots are instructed to take you back here as soon as you’ve done your jobs.”

 

“Alright, awesome.” Newt said, nodding, pretending that he didn’t feel his soul collapsing in on itself from pressure. 

 

The Marshal departed, and he and Hermann were left alone. Newt spoke first, as he often did.

 

“Listen, man--” he said, “I’m really out of my element right now. Is it just me, or are these collars way too tight. I feel like I’m suffocating in this, I mean… I thought ties were bad, but this?”

 

Hermann, not interested in humoring Newt’s commentary, pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Newton, now isn’t the time for lightheartedness. The fate of this drop rests on our shoulders--”

 

“And we’ve got it.” Newt interjected. “Just do what the Marshal said, right? Drop the bombs, come back here, watch the slayage from afar. All good!” 

 

“Yes, all good.” Hermann said, then looked up at the retreating Marshal. “If I may speak in confidence, Newton-”

 

A short, wiry mechanic in a Coyote Tango jumpsuit interrupted, speaking in a thick Jersey accent. “Hey guys, I’m lovin’ the camaraderie, but it’d be fuckin’ aces if you could take this conversation about thirty feet to the right. We’ve got some  _ hot _ cargo to load on to these bad boys, and I’d rather you two bozos not get in my way while I load them in. Thanks, youses the best.” He said, physically grabbing the duo and pulling them about three feet away from the Jumphawks.

 

Then, two massive platforms rolled out, pulled by two equally massive pickups. On each platform was a bomb, one marked  _ Apocalypse A _ , the other marked  _ Apocalypse B _ . A small sea of mechanics, including the man that’d just spoken to Newt and Hermann, began a long, grueling procedure of loading them into the Jumphawk. 

 

Once the bombs were onboarded, the crew was gone, and Newt and Hermann approached the closest Jumphawk. 

 

“We’re really about to do this,” Newt said, chuckling a little as he looked at  _ Apocalypse A _ , then at Hermann. “You ready to get your hands dirty?”

 

Hermann simply looked at Newt, then  _ Apocalypse A _ , then back at Newt. “What matters is that we kept our promise to the Marshal.”

 

“Right.” Newt stepped into the cabin of the Jumphawk. He looked at Hermann, who he was at eye level with-- for once. “Listen, man. When we’re done here, I’m getting us drinks.”

 

Newt could have sworn he saw a smile tease the corners of Hermann’s mouth. “I’ll consider the offer, Newton.”

 

“You know, you can call me Newt.”

 

“I’d really rather not.”

 

“Fair enough.” Newt said, then fell silent for a moment. As he looked Hermann in the eyes, he could swear that he could see a glimpse of the same fear that was clouding his own thoughts. Newt felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and give Hermann a hug, God only knew it would do some good for the both of them. “Hey, man-”

 

The sound of a siren blaring. The entire deck of the Shatterdome was awash in blinding crimson. _ Itak was on the horizon.  _ Newt, holding on to a handle in the ceiling of the Jumphawk, leaned out the open door and watched as the form rose into his view.

 

Suddenly, Newt was back on the beach, and Kaiceph’s head was the size of a school bus, and all he could hear was the tearing metal of nearby buildings and the deafening screams of a city in peril. His heart hammered against his chest, a survival instinct that he was about to defy. Newt looked at Hermann. “Hermann, I don’t think-” A roar.

 

And then Newt could see it: Itak’s silhouette. It was no more easy on the eyes than its voice had been on the ears. Six massive arms clawed at the air as Itak fought the ocean current in its effort to get closer to the Shatterdome. Two massive, bony spikes emerged from its shoulders, like fangs trying to sink into the sky. The thing was sound and fury, and they were about to fly right into the face of it.

 

“Get the hell on the helicopter, Gottlieb!” A Jumphawk mechanic’s voice broke through Newt’s blind terror, and before Newt could say anything, he was watching Hermann was run around the back of the hawk and into the one holding  _ Apocalypse B _ . 

 

Newt’s pilot handed him a headset. “Put it on. We can communicate clearly this way. Won’t have to worry about having to shout over the sounds of the blades.”

 

Being heard was the last thing Newt was worried about. He put on the headset, took a few shuddering breaths.

 

Then the Jumphawk was leaving the ground, and Newt was gripping the cabin handle, and they were on their way to say hello to the apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing the next few chapters is giving me my first grey hair. be patient as i crank these bad boys out. lots of stuff happening in very few pages.


	23. Chapter 23

“We’ve got about forty seconds until the payload needs to be dropped. Are you ready?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Newt said, objectively not prepared for whatever was about to happen.

 

The flight had been a struggle thus far. The engines of the Jumphawk had shorted twice, meaning Newt had been given two opportunities to make good with his God while he and the payload had freefallen through the air. Both times, he’d struggled to keep his mind on anything but how cool the explosion would be when they fell into the ocean. Not only was the Jumphawk being unreliable, but communications were choppy. Several times, the pilot had adjusted course far too late because he’d missed his instructions the first time.

 

They’d lost their lead on the Jaegers, flying out neck-and-neck with the massive mechs. While it was hardly a loss, it left even less margin for error than before. Newt had spent most of his time checking out the window to make sure that Hermann’s Jumphawk was safe-- if they didn’t both make it to Itak in one piece, they were done for.

 

“Twenty seconds.”

 

Newt snapped back to reality, and he reached for the panel with trembling hands and recited the Marshal’s procedure in his head. Focus. Focus.  _ Apocalypse A _ . Newt let out a heaving sigh.

 

“Drop it.”

 

Pop pop pop. Clink. As soon as the doors opened and the bomb had left the Jumphawk, they took off soaring upwards.

 

The Jumphawk turned, and for a few brief, fleeting moments, Newt caught a glimpse of Itak. It seemed to look him dead in the eye, mouth hanging open and dribbling bioluminescent goo.

 

And then there was nothing.

 

“What the hell happened?” Newt asked, leaning forward and gripping the headrest. “Why didn’t the bomb go off?” 

 

“I don’t know.” The pilot said, tone disturbingly calm. 

 

“Are you in communication with the other Jumphawk?” Newt asked, “Do they know the bomb failed?”

 

_ Did they know that Newt had failed?  _

 

“Yes.” The pilot responded, hand frantically pressing a series of buttons. “We’re in comm now. Just hold on.”

 

Holding on was not Newt’s specialty. As the Jumphawk circled, awaiting instruction, he caught snippets of Itak. 

 

This wasn’t fun anymore. 

 

Itak threw its head back, roaring into the sky, massive muscles flexing and sparkling in the midday sun. A series of loud crashes told Newt that the Jaegers had dropped.

 

“We need to do something!” Newt said, immediately grabbing the headset off of the pilot’s head and putting it on his own. “What the hell is going on down there?”

 

“Who is this?”

 

“Doctor Newton Geiszler,” He responded, “The guy who designed the bombs that just failed to activate.”

 

“I’d like to speak to the pilot.”

 

“Listen, buddy. My research partner’s on a Jumphawk with a bomb that  _ clearly _ doesn’t have a properly rigged ignition. Tell him to drop the payload.”

 

“That’s not your call.”

 

Newt took a deep breath, trying to gather every crumb of zen in his body as he continued to swat away the grabbing free hand of the pilot. “Listen up, you-”

 

Newt’s sentence was interrupted at the sound of tearing metal. He turned his head just in time to see one of Itak’s arms, the end of which featured a massive bone spike, cut clean through the middle of  _ Tacit Ronin _ . His heart fell out of his chest, and the headset was torn from his ear.

 

The pilot said something that didn’t register to Newt. His entire reality seemed to close in on the sound that the spike made as it was pulled from  _ Tacit _ , and the explosion that ensued.  _ Tacit _ snapped at the waist, its entire torso of the Jaeger falling into the water. Newt blanched. Feeling violently ill, he turned his head, looking out the other window just in time to see the other Jumphawk drop  _ Apocalypse B _ into the ocean. The water turned bright orange as it ignited below the surface.

 

A job half done. Newt could hear Hermann’s voice chiding him already. 

 

As if on a swivel, Newt’s head turned back to Itak, which was now closing in on  _ Echo Saber _ .  _ Saber _ launched two heat-seeking missiles, which connected squarely with Itak’s chest. The Kaiju stumbled slightly as the explosions tore its flesh, causing massive bleeding gashes.

 

“Hit it again,” Newt muttered under his breath, knowing he couldn’t be heard, knowing they couldn’t be saved. “ _ Please _ .”

 

A second barrage. One missile missed, spiralling out of control and into the ocean, and the second colliding with the joint of a clawed arm, which fell off into the ocean. Newt couldn’t help but smile at the small victory.

 

A third barrage, both colliding with the chest. They were able to deepen the impact of the previous missiles and form a sizable indent in Itak’s tissue. It stumbled, letting out a wounded roar that made Newt’s ears ring. Echo drew an arm back to swing, and then a hook was driving into the nuclear reactor in its chest.

 

Kaboom.

 

They were down to  _ Coyote Tango _ .

 

“Hey cap,” Newt said, voice trembling, “What exactly is the game plan?”

 

“I’m not authorized to tell you.”

 

Newt mentally said a brief prayer to whatever forces ruled the universe . “Listen, man. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m also on this hawk. My f-” his breath hitched. “My friend is in the other one, and neither of us seem to be in a very safe position. Since we aren’t going back, I think I have a right to know what the  _ hell _ the plan is.”

 

The pilot let out a sigh. “They’re bringing the Mark Two. We’re supposed to distract Itak until it gets here.”

 

Stunned silence. “They- was this a suicide run?”

 

Silence. They continued to fly in a massive circle around Itak, which was now toe-to-toe with  _ Coyote Tango _ . It was using its cannons, deepening the violently bleeding wound and keeping Itak in one place. While it fired off at the shoulders, it swung at Itak’s damaged abdomen, tearing out chunks of glowing flesh. 

 

“ _ Was this a suicide run? _ ” Newt repeated, “I know you can hear me, you fascist!”

 

The pilot became said nothing.

 

All Newt could do was watch as Itak and  _ Tango _ swung at one another. Then,  _ Tango _ ’s right arm and cannon were torn off of its body with a sickening, metallic screech.

 

On the horizon, Newt could just barely make out the shape of a Jaeger being carried in by a fleet of Jumphawks.

 

“Copy that.” The pilot said to a voice that Newt couldn’t hear.

 

“What is going  _ on _ ?” Newt asked, exasperated and enraged.

 

“All you need to know is that we’re turning around. Grab onto something.”

  
That was when Itak bit off  _ Tango _ ’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to 'No Good Things Are Built To Last', hosted by me!


	24. Chapter 24

Newt was standing on a stagnant Jumphawk, facing down a uncooperative pilot and watching as the remains of a Jaeger were torn to shreds by a delighted, five-and-a-half-armed Kaiju. The end of the world was rapidly becoming more and more of a reality. Newt was sweating puddles. His previously-snazzy and charming jumpsuit clung to his body, even with the zipper half-undone, his bare and tattooed chest glistening-- partly with sweat, and partly with humidity from the ocean air.

 

Was this how Purgatory felt? It seemed that everything in the past few days had happened all at once, but in total isolation. Hermann was a thousand miles away, and Newt was getting the sinking feeling that Itak was the last thing they’d ever see. Newt’s intelligence, the thing that had made him into the academic prodigy and scientific innovator that he was known to be internationally, had failed him when he needed it most.

 

Newt couldn’t cry, but that was probably because he was dehydrated. Newt’s chest heaved deep, terrified breaths as Itak bit  _ Tango _ ’s final leg in half, and let out a roar that caused the entire Jumphawk to shake. As the first Mark II came closer, Newt’s shaken faith was temporarily bolstered.

 

“What the hell. What the hell. What the  _ hell _ !” Newt said, slamming his fist against the glass on the Jumphawk’s door. He felt fucking  _ trapped _ , he felt like he was watching the whole world burn,  and like there was nothing he could do about it. The Mark II dropped, and the Jumphawks-- both the one Newt was in and the one Hermann was in-- charted course towards it. As they drew closer, Newt was given a few moments of clarity to admire the design.

 

It was a damn good Jaeger. It would be a shame to watch Itak tear it to bits. 

 

As the Jaeger touched down, meeting the water with a massive bang, its lights flickered on, and it came to life. Newt’s pilot handed him the headset, which he took frantically, shoving the earpiece to his head. “Hello?” Newt said, not bothering to hide his terror.

 

“We’re bringing you back to the Shatterdome,” The Marshal said, as the Jumphawks turned on a dime, heading towards the Shatterdome, which seemed so much closer than Newt remembered. “And we’re getting you two the hell out of here.”

 

“W-wait!” Newt said, “What- what about Itak?”

 

A long silence. “We’ve got  _ Eden Assassin _ , and infantry loading into jets right now. They’ll hold it off while we find a permanent solution for your mistake.”

 

The words drove into Newt’s chest. “Marshal, I- I’m so sorry-” his voice cracked.

 

“The only apology you owe is to the families of the six Rangers that just died because you couldn’t do your job correctly.”

 

“That- that was unnecessary, Marshal.” Newt replied. Guilt bore down on him like a ton of bricks. 

 

“So were the losses, Doctor Geiszler.” She said.

 

A valid, but unfortunate, point. Newt took off the headset and handed it to the pilot.

 

They landed about two minutes before Hermann’s Jumphawk, which gave Newt the perfect chance to dodge the other man’s presence and inevitable criticism. When Newt’s feet touched ground, his legs almost gave way out of the sheer gravity of what he had just witnessed. Suddenly, Newt was running into the Shatterdome. He was running away from Hermann and Itak, and was tripping up the stairs to the catwalk, pushing open the doors of the K-science lab, and running headfirst into Tendo.

 

Newt took a step back, mouth trying to make the sounds necessary to say  _ excuse me _ , but producing no sound at all. 

 

“Hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tendo said, putting a hand on Newt’s shoulder, which Newt quickly shook off. “What’s going on, my man?”

 

“You don’t  _ know _ ?” Newt asked, examining Tendo’s features, trying to identify if he was serious.

 

“I mean, I know that Itak’s been kept in place for about half an hour, which I think is pretty-”

 

“It took out all the Mark Ones, Tendo.” Newt said. “My weapon didn’t deploy. We’re done for.”

 

“Oh.” Tendo replied, in such a tone that told Newt that the whole thing was still processing in Tendo’s head. “So-”

 

“So I’m packing my bags. They’re sending me back home.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Newt, deciding that he didn’t want to think any more about what was happening, pushed past Tendo and into the laboratory, packing up what remained of his specimens, knocking over countless lab supplies in the process. He picked up his duffel, slinging it over his shoulder and  once again crossing paths with Tendo among the desks.

 

“Hey, pal-” Tendo said, setting down his cup of coffee and scratching the back of his neck, “Listen, whatever happened, I don’t-”

 

“Listen, I appreciate the empathy, but I really don’t think that comfort is the thing I’m looking for right now. I need to-- I just need to get as far from here as possible.”

 

Tendo grabbed Newt’s arm as he passed with a surprisingly iron grip. “Doctor Geiszler,” He said, “Let me show you out.”

 

Newt yanked his arm from Tendo’s grip, but obliged.

 

They ran into Hermann, as Newt had expected would inevitably happen. They stood in the Jaeger hangar, whose emptiness only served to remind Newt of everything that had just happened. God, he wanted to just  _ collapse in on his damn self _ . Newt literally couldn’t look Hermann in the eyes.

 

Silence echoed. 

 

“Newton-”

 

“What?” Newt’s tone was snappier than he’d intended.

 

“You’ve never seemed like someone to run from a fight. I’m surprised.”

 

Even then, even as the end of the world looked him dead in the face, Newt was getting critique from Hermann. All he could do was laugh spitefully and helplessly.

 

All Newt had ever done was run from things. He’d run from his antagonists, run from reality, and run from any place where he would ever belong. Newt was a coward. He waited until battles were fought, then scoured the bodies of fallen monsters. He picked the bones of gods so that he could get a taste of true glory, and now he was on the warpath and had no courage to fight the same battles whose wake he’d made his living from.

 

“I’ve played my hand, Hermann.” Newt said, “I’ve got nothing. I came up with a weapon that was supposed to change the game, and it failed for reasons beyond my control.” He said, “I belong in a lab, cutting up Kaiju testicles, not-- here. I’ve got to go. They want me to go.”

 

Hermann looked at Tendo, then at Newt. “We aren’t out of options, Newton.”

 

“Unless you’ve got a third and fourth bomb lying around, we’ve got nothing.”

 

A pause.

 

“You  _ don’t _ have more bombs, do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 1 : long distance banter between two nerdy boys
> 
> chapter 24 : the literal end of the world by newt and hermann, feat. tendo choi


	25. Chapter 25

“You do realize what you’re suggesting, right, Hermann?” Newt asked, “I mean-- aren’t  _ I _ the one that’s supposed to have the horrible ideas?”

 

At the moment, the trio ( Newt, Hermann, and Tendo ) stood on a catwalk in the Jaeger bay, looking a then-unidentified Mark II Jaeger directly in the massive, glass eye and arguing hotly about the ethics of stealing it and taking down Itak themselves. Hermann had surprisingly been the one to suggest it, citing some boring dead dude who had a lot to say about morality and responsibility, and how they had an ethical responsibility to realize the intended results of their failure. At the moment, Newt’s argument that the two of them combined could barely tackle a printer jam, stood unrefuted.

 

Tendo, meanwhile had endured this entire exchange uncomfortably between the two scientists, looking like he  _ really wanted to leave _ , but didn’t know how. 

 

“Hermann, even if I  _ did _ take you up on this-- which I definitely  _ won’t _ , how are we going to pilot a Jaeger without LOCCENT?” Newt asked, “As much as ethics might appeal to you and interest me only marginally, it isn’t going make a good selling point to the base full of people who are about to die because we didn’t want to admit that we didn’t know how to design a bomb.”

 

“Newton, I need you to take a breath.”

 

“Take a  _ breath _ ?” Newt asked, incredulous. “Hermann, these guys don’t want anything more from us. They’re  _ literally _ begging us to leave. Maybe we should take that as a sign. You know, take our out while we still have it.”

 

“Hey guys, I know we’re still on the fence about all this, but I  _ am _ LOCCENT trained,” Tendo cut in, “And Mark Twos run on a completely different system from the Mark Ones.” He explained, “And I’m pretty sure this thing’s on its own frequency. That’s mostly because it’s still in Beta, but-- I mean, I’m not going to say that I  _ do _ endorse this--” Tendo’s voice trailed off.

 

Newt sighed heavily. “I’m not getting in that thing.”

 

“All we have to do,” Hermann said, “Is hold Itak off until the Jaegers inbound from Hong Kong arrive.” He let out a sigh. “Newton, I know that you are more predisposed to cracking under pressure, but solving your problems can be just as rewarding as escaping them.” 

 

“Sure,” Newt replied, “But only when solving into the problem doesn’t involve getting into billions of dollars worth of experimental technology--” 

 

The sound of Itak’s roar cut off Newt’s train of thought and sent a chill directly down his spine. The trio shuddered.

 

“Newton, I’m asking you this as--” Hermann cut himself off. “Newton, we have a personal obligation to these people.”

 

“That’s noble, Hermann, but I don’t think they have even a  _ inkling _ of interest in us taking up that obligation. How are we even supposed to know that we’ll be drift compatible?”

 

Tendo burst into laughter at this for reasons beyond Newt’s comprehension. “Doctor Geiszler, you two will have no problem. Take my word on that.”

 

Newt  **had** always wanted to get into Hermann’s head. He stood at a crossroads, and it seemed that all signs were pointing him at the most terrifying option. “Hermann--” Newt chewed his lip, “Listen, I-” A pause. Newt was on the run from a corporation that was just a few inventory checks away from finding out that he had used their highly privatized tissue samples to design a failed biological weapon that had led directly to six deaths, was about to return to a job that he constantly failed to fill the requirements of  **despite** the consistently low standard that he was held to,  **_and_ ** had just about completely nullified the until-then positive growth of the working relationship he had with Hermann. All things considered, it wasn’t that horrible of a horrible time to die.

 

“Fine. But the moment we have the lower hand, we’re hauling ourselves out of there.”

 

Hermann conceded.

 

They suited up in a matter of minutes. Newt had considered complaining that the J-Tech suit they’d put him in was  _ very _ tight around the stomach, but decided not to pick any fights for the next twenty minutes,  _ especially _ ones that didn’t involve a hemorrhaging Kaiju. The suit was both sparse and cramped-- armor on every part of the body was meant to protect the wearer from any possible injuries sustained from ground-level combat, but every material was as light as possible in order to allow for movement in the Jaeger rig. In short, it was clunky and did nothing to help Newt’s inherent clumsiness.

 

Until then, Newt had refused to let himself think about the equally horrifying realities he was facing: first, that he would soon be standing in the metal Jaeger rig death trap, and second, that he was about to have unadulterated access to all of Hermann’s thoughts and memories. There was no saying which of those two realities was worse. 

 

“Alright, guys,” Tendo said, putting on a headset that somehow didn’t cause a visible dent in his well-gelled hair, “We’ve got about twenty minutes before Itak gets within swinging distance of the Shatterdome. Think that’s enough time to, uh, figure each other out?” 

 

Newt looked at Hermann, who looked much less at home in his rig suit. Newt might have laughed at how Hermann looked, if they weren’t about to stomp into the path of an interdimensional menace. Instead of laughing, Newt strolled with Hermann down the catwalk and on to a small platform that bridged the gap between them and the open visor of the Jaeger. Newt looked at Hermann, the back at Tendo, who was standing at a very cozy-looking array of buttons, which he was frantically examining and adjusting. “Hey, Tendo!” Newt said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “What’s this thing’s name?”

 

“Uh, don’t think it’s been given one, boss,” Tendo said, plugging in a seemingly endless supply of cords of all varying lengths to the console. “Just numbers.”

 

“Alright. Well,” he said, turning around and putting a hand on the cool, well-shined metal of the Jaeger, “I’m calling it  _ Delta Badass _ .” Hermann shook his head, but didn’t protest. Newt looked at Tendo. “Got that? Callsign,  _ Delta Badass _ .”

 

“Gotcha, Geiszler.” Tendo replied, flicking a switch and looking up at them. “Now how about you rig up before anyone up top realizes that the main LOCCENT station’s power is being siphoned?”

 

A good suggestion. Together, Newt and Hermann climbed into the helmet of  _ Delta _ .

 

Newt was having second, third, and fifteenth thoughts about this. He lowered his voice, looking at Hermann. “Hey, man.” He said, waiting until Hermann looked at him. “I- it’s been a wild few days. You holding it together alright?”

 

Hermann, who was already trying to maneuver his lanky frame into the PONS rig, stopped and looked at Newt. “Yes.” He said, putting on his helmet. “One of us has to be.”

 

With pursed lips, Newt tried not to feel the overwhelming envy he had, that Hermann could regain his composure and courage even after multiple failures.

 

Newt stepped into the rig which automatically latched on to all of his limbs. Tendo’s voice came through loud and clear to an intercom speaker that sounded tinny as it bounced off the cool metal of the cabin. “Heyyyy guys, it’s me, Tendo. I’m not sure who else it  _ would _ be. I’m honestly really impressed you managed to get into the rigs without twisting any limbs, so… uh, good job! Next up, we’ve got to do the neural handshake. You know, enter the drift and hopefully come out in one piece I’m supposed to ask you guys to initiate the drift sequence whenever you’re ready, but Itak isn’t slowing down, I’d like to live to see the next season of  _ American Gods _ , so I’m giving you five seconds.” 

 

Newt looked at Hermann. “Ready, Doctor Gottlieb?” Newt asked.

 

“Indeed.”

 

Reality collapsed in on Newt’s brain, which exploded into a black-and-blue haze, and he found himself in the drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay multiple notes, this time actually related to the story
> 
> 1-- i had the last chapter, as well as three more, written out last night before i hit a wall. i realized that i... didn't like the choices i'd made? so i had to rewrite all of it, which is why my grand plan to release every chapter of the climax kind of collapsed in on itself.
> 
> 2-- this original plan involved the Marshal dying in the Mark II and Newt and Hermann jumping in, after which Newt would find out that Penny and the Marshal were related. That's why they had the last name. So much for the big reveal.
> 
> 3-- the run-on sentence about newt's hellish circumstances literally took eight revisions to make sense, so you better appreciate that shit
> 
> 4-- did you really think i was gonna write 30 chapters of a fic and let it not involve Newt and Hermann drifting in some capacity????


	26. Chapter 26

Newt came out of the drift as quickly as he’d arrived in it, but not for a fraction of the time that he spent in the thick of it.

 

There weren’t many tangible words that could describe what it was like to drift. Newt had felt every micron of the entire spectrum of human emotion-- passion and pain, love and hate. He felt more intensely than he’d ever felt before, as he was catapulted through everything his mind could recall, and a few things it’d long since forgotten. In the wake of Newt’s life, sutured in with crude but honest strokes, were memories that were markedly  _ not _ his own, although they felt spiritually familiar. These memories told stories of a troubled and prodigious young man, a brilliant mind born into a time that presented him with an opportunity to truly show his worth. These memories belonged to Hermann, Newt realized, and so did many of the feelings that he collided with as he was thrown through the drift.

 

When Newt came out of the drift, he physically lurched forward, nearly vomiting from the vertigo of the experience. As Newt heaved to try and regain his breath, he managed to look at Hermann.

 

“Neural handshake at sixty-” Tendo snorted, “Oh, wait. Never mind. Dropped to sixty-eight. Weak but holding. You two wanna take this bad boy for a spin?”

 

Anxiety sat in Newt’s chest like a hot coal, sizzling and eating away at everything around it. While he was enjoying the emotional high that seemed to be a residual effect of the drift, he still felt sincerely unprepared for whatever was coming next.

 

“Hello? Guys?”

 

“Sorry,” Newt said, “How- how far away is Itak?”

 

The ground shook with another roar, and that was enough of an answer. “That a good enoguh answer? It’s now or never, hotshots.” Tendo said, “Though, first, I should let you know that there  _ are _ a few limitations to what this thing can do.” 

 

“What are they?” Hermann asked, speaking for the both of them.

 

“Uh, I don’t think I’ll have time to list them all. Biggest note, don’t use the elbow rockets. Something about them being faulty.”

 

“Probably the ignition,” Newt said out loud, “Like with those bombs.”

 

“Maybe,” Tendo replied, “We’ll have plenty of time to get to that after you’re done saving the world.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Ready for your first steps?”

 

Another roar shook the ground, and Newt stumbled backwards on instinct, the entire Jaeger responding to the physical impulse.

 

“Newton!” Hermann shouted, “You’re going to get us killed.”

 

“Yeah, I know. That’s kind of been my  _ thing _ today.”

 

“That’s not what I meant.” Hermann huffed, “Focus on the task at hand, Newton.”

 

The task at hand. Holding off Itak, something that three ( four, including the Mark II that had dropped ) Jaegers had failed thus far. Newt let out a heavy sigh. “So, what’s next?” 

 

“Alright. Turns out the Corps anticipated that someone might try to steal T412-”

 

“--  _ Delta Badass _ \--” Newt interjected.

 

“Right,  _ Delta Badass _ . So, the first thing you are going to have to do is chew through the door behind you, since I don’t have the clearance to get it open. Lucky for you,  _ Delta _ was equipped with one-hundred and eighty degrees of rotation at the waist.” Tendo said, smile apparent in his tone. “So, look at the panel between your two rigs. There’s a panel. Just flip the switch labeled, uh---” A pause, “-- H39. Got it?”

 

Hermann found it almost immediately. “Yes.”

 

“Alright, now uh… flip it, and, uh… turn.”

 

Newt wasn’t sure how to properly will a several-ton robot to turn on a dime, but somehow, it happened. After several seconds filled with the unpleasant sound of groaning metal and panels,  _ Delta _ ’s entire torso had rotated, and now Newt and Hermann faced two massive metal bay doors.

 

“You ready to fire your first round of Jaeger artillery, docs?”

 

“I’m starting to think that we would have benefitted from some kind of crash course, though I suppose that isn’t an option.” Hermann said, looking down at the handpiece on his rig. The Jaeger mirrored the gesture, one hand in front of its massive face, just a yard away from the metal doors to the deck. “How do I fire the primary cannon?”

 

“Oooh, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that.” Tendo replied, “How about you try pressing buttons until something blows up?”

 

“That’s not a very reliable method, Tendo.”

 

“Well, in my defense, there’s no real reference material for me to tell whether I’m properly hijacking a Jaeger or not.” Tendo replied, “Try the thumb button.”

 

At once, Newt and Hermann both pressed a square, black button on their handpieces, which triggered two massive blades to come out of the forearms of  _ Delta _ . They collided with the metal doors with a sickening screech, tearing through the surprisingly soft metal.

 

“Alright, so thumb button’s out of the question.” Tendo said, “Great.”

 

It was Newt’s impulse the slowly pulled the forearm blade out of the door, then pressed the thumb button again, the to blades drawing back into  _ Delta _ ’s forearms. “How about-- how about this?” Newt asked, curling the right arm into a fist, immediately swinging it at the cargo door.

 

First came the sound of the hand bursting through the metal. Then came an ungodly ringing that permeated the thick walls of the Jaeger, definitely causing ear damage that would undoubtedly precipitate into tinnitus later in their lives. Not to leave a job unfinished, Newt used  _ Delta _ ’s hands to grab the right door’s now severely warped warped metal, yanking on it and managing to get enough leverage to rip one of the cargo doors right off the hinges.

 

What stood beyond it was something transfixing. The Mark II that had dropped while Newt and Hermann had retreated to the Shatterdome was holding its own against Itak. It had sustained some serious hits, sparks flying from several massive gashes left along its torso and legs as it exchanged punches with the Kaiju, but it was holding its own, circling Itak, putting everything that it had into the fight. Itak was still bleeding, and bad. It’d lost two more arms, now boasting only one of its massive talons, the other two arms ending with claws that swung rapidly through the air, missing the Jaeger narrowly.

 

A guided missile struck Itak in the face, and it fell backwards in the water with an unearthly shriek, only to rise from the bay again, its entire lower jaw and most of the right side of its skull decimated by the attack. It reached forward with its two good claws, grabbing the Jaeger and roaring in its face, Blue spraying wildly from its mouth as it cried out.

 

“It looks like they’ve got it handled,” Newt said, “Maybe we should-”

 

“Absolutely not,” Hermann interjected.

 

“Fine, fine.” Newt said.

 

_ Delta  _ squeezed through the massive hole in the Shatterdome, stumbling a little before regaining its bearings. It rotated at the waist again, turning back to its original orientation before turning properly and continuing towards the bay. 

 

“Great! Awesome, you guys are killing it,” Tendo said, “Go get ‘em, tigers!”

 

Then,  _ Delta _ was stomping across the massive deck of the Shatterdome, the ground shaking with every movement, as they drew closer to the stalemate between the Mark II and Itak.

 

“Hermann,” Newt said, voice strained as they worked with the machinery,  _ Delta _ ’s first steps as tentative as they were terrifying, “When this is all over, I’ve got a  _ series _ of complaints that I’d like to file with you.”

 

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Hermann said, breathing heavily, “I’m in your head. You can save your breath”

 

So he did. 

 

_ Delta _ stepped off the edge of the Shatterdome deck, plunging into the ocean, meeting the bottom of the bay with a resounding  _ thud _ . The entire frame of the Jaeger shook and groaned, and Newt and Hermann caught each other’s equally terrified gazes.  _ Delta _ steadied, and they took another step, moving against the beating current of the cold water.

 

“ _ Who the hell are you? _ ” An unfamiliar voice crackled in over the comm.

 

“Uh, Tendo-?”

 

“I think that’s the other Jaeger, Doc.” Tendo replied.

 

“ _ Don’t _ \--” The comm cut out as the Mark II swung at Itak’s jaw, fist landing squarely in the gash left in its jawbone, causing the Kaiju to produce a sound that made the air itself to shake with violent energy. “ _ Don’t make me repeat myself. _ ” The voice repeated.

 

Newt and Hermann exchanged glances, and Newt pressed a blue button labelled  **COMM** . “Uh, hey.” He said.

 

“ _ Oh my God, it’s you. _ ” The voice said, markedly disappointed. “ _ Aren’t you supposed to be done here, Geiszler? _ ”

 

Newt looked at Hermann. “Uh, no, sir.” He said, “In fact, I’m getting the feeling that I’m just getting started.”  _ Delta _ continued to push through the water, rapidly closing in on the fight.

 

“ _ You hotwired a Jaeger, and now you’re about to take on a Category Three without any Academy training?” _ A break in the comm as the Mark II dug a bladed knuckle into one of Itak’s torso wounds. “ _ You really are as batshit as they say. _ ”

 

Newt pressed the thumb button, releasing  _ Delta _ ’s forearm blades. “Maybe I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so no one told u life was gonna be this way ( clap clap clap clap clap ) ur in a jaeger and ur responsible for six deaths ( clap clap clap clap ) seems like ur always fucking up ur life ( clap clap clap clap ) so how abt u kill a kaiju with a giant knife
> 
> anyway it's been one month since i started writing this. thanks for everyone who's been here from the beginning, and welcome to people who are just joining this adventure.


	27. Chapter 27

The logistics of fighting a Kaiju ended up being a lot more nuanced than Newt and Hermann-- or their drift-combined mind-- could have anticipated. When  _ Delta _ arrived at the scene, where the Mark II ( whose named they learned was  _ Eden Assassin _ ) was squaring up with Itak, Newt was already exhausted. While his badass one liner had been enough to silence the Rangers piloting  _ Eden _ , it hadn’t been enough to nullify the combined impact of fatigue, hunger, terror, and anxiety that was currently running Newt’s body. He knew Hermann was feeling those burdens, too-- this was the least composed that Newt had ever seen him.

 

“ _ Delta, do something already! _ ” The Ranger shouted through the comm as they blocked a barrage of punches from Itak,  _ Eden _ ’s metal denting and ripping under the pressure of the blows. 

 

It was Hermann that took charge as  _ Delta _ picked up into a sprint, grabbing one of Itak’s clawed arms and pulling it off of  _ Eden _ . Itak roared, head snapping to  _ Delta _ . Ten eyes looked right into Newt’s soul. Something inside him shut off. A soft gasp that turned into a whimper escaped Newt’s mouth, and Itak yanked its arm from  _ Delta _ ’s grip.

 

“Hey guys,” Tendo’s voice, while comforting, only added to the chaos. “How about you try using the chest cannons?”

 

“The  _ what _ ?” Newt asked, as  _ Delta _ took three stumbling steps backwards, narrowly dodging Itak’s wildly swinging arm, which was ducked by  _ Eden _ . 

 

“The, uh… there are cannons in the chest, doc.” Tendo said, “I think you-- there’s a covered switch on the handpiece.” 

 

Newt glanced down at the intricate handpiece, only then noticing how white his knuckles were. He rolled his wrist, examining it closely as he tried to find the switch in question.

 

Then there was a sound like lightning striking as Itak’s claw collided with  _ Delta _ , and then the entire Jaeger was falling backwards into the ocean.

 

Newt knew that it was Hermann’s impulse that turned  _ Delta _ ’s torso. It was Hermann who reached out causing  _ Delta _ to catch itself, Newt’s body mirroring the gesture. Massive metal hands collided with the uneven surface of the Bay, and the sloshing water came up nearly to  _ Delta _ ’s shoulders.

 

Newt was out of fight. “Hermann!” He shouted, ears still ringing from the sound of Itak hitting  _ Delta _ “Hermann, are you alright?” 

 

He couldn’t even hear his own voice.

 

Then, he fell out of alignment.

 

It was falling, but there was no grace to it. It wasn’t like when he was entering the drift, floating across an ocean of memories, rising from the torrent as often as he was pulled under. It was a free fall from a thousand stories, hurtling towards a ground that never got closer.

 

And then he was somewhere else entirely.

 

_ “See, Newt,” Illia said, one hand planted firmly on Newt’s shoulder, the other pointing at a pattern of circuitry on the table in front of them, “That’s all it takes. Betcha those hacks at MIT won’t tell you that.” _

 

_ Newt laughed and shook his head, rolling his shoulder out of Illia’s grip and picking up the board. “No, they won’t .” Newt replied, taking off his glasses and wiping them on the hem of his shirt. “Though I also never ask them about this stuff.” _

 

_ “You don’t?” _

 

_ “Why would I waste my time asking a bunch of stuck up old dudes about how to build a robot, when I could ask someone who would actually explain it to me?” Newt asked with a smile. _

 

_ Illia smiled fondly at Newt, who placed the circuit board on a small, four-legged robot that was sitting inert on the ground. “I’ll tell you, I’m just happy you’ve made it a semester without turning in to one of those stuffy academics.” _

 

_ “Bad news, uncle.” Newt said, picking up a screwdriver and carefully putting a panel in place on top of the circuit board. “I’ve always been a stuffy academic.” _

 

_ “Oh, don’t talk like that!” Illia replied, “You’ll put me into cardiac arrest.” _

 

_ “Alright, alright.” Newt muttered, stepping away from the robot and looking at Illia. “Alright, let’s try it out.” _

 

_ Illia picked up a complicated-looking control array from the table, patting the chair beside him-- to which Newt happily returned. “Now, if this doesn’t work, what will we do?” He asked, looking at Newt expectantly. _

 

_ “Pick ourselves up and brush ourselves off and remind ourselves how good we look, I know.” Newt said, repeating the familiar mantra that had been drilled into his head for years. “Now come on, turn it on!” _

 

_ “Alright, alright.” Illia flicked a few switches, and the soft whirring of gears picked up as the machine turned on. “Where to, captain?” _

 

_ “Let’s see if it can get to the window this time,” Newt said, nearly jumping out of his chair in excitement. _

 

_ “Alright, alright.” Illia gently pushed the joystick, causing the robot to run towards the window, colliding with the wall with a soft  _ **_thud_ ** _. Immediately, Illia turned off the control, getting out of his chair and crossing the room to pick up the robot.  _

 

_ Newt, frustrated and dismayed, rose from his seat, meeting Illia by the window. “What went wrong?” He asked, zeroing in on a small dent that had formed in the bot’s chassis.  _

 

_ “Nothing went wrong,” Illia said, “We just did something a little too right. It couldn’t even stand up before, not to mention get all the way across the room. What we’ve done today is a great success, Newt.” _

 

_ “I mean, the hole in your drywall-” _

 

_ “Can be patched up. Your dad’s going to be thrilled to hear how much further we’ve gotten with-- what’s its name?” _

 

_ “Delta Badass.” _

 

_ Illia laughed. “Don’t let your father know I let you say that.”  _

 

_ “I won’t,” Newt replied, “I just call it Dell when I talk to him.” _

 

_ “Smart kid.” Illia replied, ruffling Newt’s hair and setting the robot on a low shelf. “Now, Newt-” _

 

_ A shrill siren pierced through Illia’s sentence, ringing in Newt’s ears. “What is that?” He asked, looking out the window to try and identify a source for the sound. _

 

_ “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good. Go to the cellar, I’ll check the news.” _

 

_ “I’m not going to-” _

 

_ “Newton.” _

 

_ Newt sighed and left the room, heading towards the door at the end of the hallway that led to the house’s cellar. He paused for a second, about to open the door, before curiosity got the best of him. By the time Newt had snuck to the kitchen ( through which he could get a view of the living room TV ), a news broadcast featuring a single, terrified anchor was playing. _

 

_ “There’s no explanation as to how the thing got here, but what we know for sure is that preliminary attempts to take it down are failing. It seems to have some sort of-- of leathery armor--” _

 

_ That was when Illia muted the sound, picking up his phone and sitting in silence for a few seconds. “Yes, where is it exactly?” A pause. “We’re safe, yes.” A pause. “Alright. What do I tell Newt?” Silence. A sigh. “He’ll see right through that. I- NEWTON!” Illia called. _

 

_ Newt waited a smart five seconds before emerging from the kitchen. “What’s up?” _

 

_ “Hey, you have your overnight bag packed?”  _

 

_ “Yeah.” _

 

_ “How about you load it up into the car?” _

 

_ “What’s going on, Illia?” Newt asked, immediately becoming cagey at the idea of such a sudden change. “What are the sirens for?” _

 

_ “Newt, I’ll explain on the road.” _

 

_ And as suddenly as Newt was standing in the kitchen, looking at his devastated uncle, the memory shifted, and he was on the road, strapped into the passenger seat of Illia’s BMW, as the man drove at God knew how many miles per hour out of the city. _

 

_ “So it’s a Kaiju?” Newt asked. _

 

_ “A-- a what?” _

 

_ “Like Mothra, or King Kong. It’s a type of monster--” _

 

_ “Oh, yes. Sure.” _

 

_ “Cool.” Newt said, sitting back in his chair and looking back out the window.  _

 

_ “-- thirteen confirmed deaths in the last hour. Anyone in the metropolitan area is encouraged to evacuate as quickly as possible--” The radio crackled. _

 

_ “Can we listen to something else?” _

 

_ “Newt--” Illia glanced at him. “You’re smart enough to know that we can’t tune out of this.” _

 

_ Newt frowned. “Fine, but-” _

 

_ The ground shook, and Newt swore he could see the cement of the bridge ripple. A low, echoing screech broke out, filling every inch of air in the car with a strange electricity. Newt turned his head to the horizon, and that was when he saw it. _

 

_ Trespasser. _

 

_ He was rapt with terror and fascination. “Holy shit!” Newt said, “That’s-- get a load of that, Illia!” Newt rolled down the window, sticking his head out slightly in an attempt to make out the rapidly-growing silhouette of the Kaiju. Then, Illia’s hand was grabbing the back of his shirt, pulling him back into the car then rolling the window up.  _

 

_ “I’d rather not.”  _

 

_ Illia’s knuckles were white, his grip on the wheel iron. Newt looked at his uncle’s face, and sat back in his seat before turning his gaze back towards Trespasser. He could feel every step it took. _

 

_ Newt had never been a fan of math, but he knew a set of perpendicular paths when he saw one. _

 

_ The memory shifted again, and Newt was on the highway in stopped traffic, an endless choir of car horns backed by the ever-growing sound of Trespasser’s footsteps playing as the soundtrack to their misfortune. All around him and Illia, families were ditching their cars and running towards the nearest exit ramps, carrying what they could on their backs and leaving their vehicles behind. _

 

_ Newt and Illia were in the process of doing the same when they lost the fight. They were squeezing between two SUVs, both abandoned, when a massive shadow came over the two of them. Newt looked up and saw the face of Trespasser, magnificent and terrifying. It opened its mouth-- _

 

“Newton! Newton, for the love of Christ, come back!” Hermann’s voice broke through the memory like a wrecking ball. Newt blinked, and he was back in the  _ Delta _ .

 

He looked at Hermann. “H-hey,” he said, reaching feebly towards the other man, then passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things Fall Apart ( 1958 )
> 
> Hey. Hitting rock bottom means that the only way you can really go is up.


	28. Chapter 28

Newt awoke to the feeling of a cold towel sitting on his forehead. He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t quite get his neck to move. Resigned, he let out a very emasculating wimper, eyes fluttering open. His eyelashes fluttered as he adjusted to the surgical light. He was in a hospital. Excellent. 

 

Was he still at the Shatterdome? With great effort, Newt managed to turn his head far enough to the right to see a nurse standing at his side, taking notes on a clipboard. Newt tried to speak, but could only manage another raspy whine. The nurse looked at him.

 

“Doctor Newton Geiszler,” he said, “Welcome back.”

 

Newt didn’t feel entirely welcome. Once he’d managed to salvage enough of his thought process to put two and two together, Newt’s next concern was Hermann. He tried to reach out to the nurse, only to find that his right hand was handcuffed to the side of the bed.

 

If it wasn’t one thing, it was a-goddamn-nother. “Hey,” Newt managed to choke out, “What-” he jangled his wrist weakly.

 

“Oh-- I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you. Let me get you someone who-- one minute, I’ll let her know you woke up.” The nurse’s eyes flitted over to a far corner of the room, to which Newt laboriously turned his attention.

 

An armed guard. How charming. He let out a sigh, attempting to clear his throat but only realizing in the process how dry it was. The door opened again, and a familiar voice spoke.

 

“Doctor Geiszler!” 

 

Penny fucking Sanchez. Newt returned his head to the neutral position, deciding that it was taking far too much effort to look at things, and focused on the present. “Hey,” he wheezed. “W-water,”.

 

Penny obliged him, helping Newt choke down a cup of water-- a task that took an embarrassing full minute to complete. It hurt his throat, but soothed a strange aching in his stomach. Penny set down the cup on a small bedside table, looking at Newt with an unreadable expression. “Doctor, what have you done?”

 

“A lot,” he said, deciding not to waste what little breath he had, “Broke some rules.”

 

“I know.” Penny put a hand on the side of the bed, clearly avoiding the handcuff. “Everyone knows. You’re America’s most wanted. No, you’re  _ the world’s _ most wanted.” She glanced up at the officer, then looked back at Newt. “My mom managed to get you and Doctor Gottlieb back in the States, but-- but it doesn’t look good for either of you. Mostly you.” She let go of the side of the bed, tugging at one of her sweater’s sleeves. “Seven people are dead, Doc, and everyone blames you.”

 

The bombs. Itak.  _ Delta _ . All of it. What felt like a distant memory was slowly becoming more real and tangible. “Hermann-”

 

“Doctor Gottlieb’s alright,” Penny replied, “He’s--” She sighed. “He’s in trouble, too. Turns out that even if you don’t know you’re committing a crime, you can still get in trouble for it.” A nervous chuckle. “He suffered a pretty serious injury, though. After you passed out, he, uh-- the Kaiju--” she cleared her throat. “He nearly lost his entire left leg. He just got out of surgery yesterday, and he’s fine. Everything’s fine.You’ll want to lawyer up.”

 

Newt sighed, weakly jangling the handcuffs again. “Where--”

 

“He’s just a couple of rooms down. You can visit him, but there’s got to be supervision.” Penny looked up at the guard in the corner of the room. “Doctor-”

 

“Newt.” He interjected, “Please.”

 

Penny cleared her throat. “Newt.” she conceded, “I’ll go get a physician, they should be able to take you over to where Doctor Gottlieb is.”

 

Like that, she was gone, and replaced with a doctor who spoke far too slowly and calmly for Newt to bother listening. The physician shuffled Newt into a very humiliating wheelchair, then pushed him down the hall to a similarly guarded hospital room.

 

Inside the room was Hermann, whose leg was bound up in thick layers of bandages and casting, his eyes shut. Although he looked like hell, the fact that his chest rose and fell steadily was enough to take a massive weight off of Newt’s chest. The physician rolled Newt to Hermann’s bedside, and for a few moments, he just took in the sight of Hermann, alive and in one piece.

 

It was embarrassing how calm it made Newt feel. One hand ( the one that  _ wasn’t _ handcuffed to his wheelchair ) reached up and tapped Hermann’s hand. “Hey-” Newt rasped, “Hey, Hermann--”

 

Hermann stirred, letting out a groaned sigh. He looked at Newt, and sighed again. His hand turned over, and their fingertips brushed, and Newt pulled his hand back into his lap. They sat in that comfortable, pained, understanding silence for many seconds.

 

“Newt…” Hermann sighed, and Newt swore he could hear the hint of a chuckle at the end of the word. 

 

A kind of desperate, terrified smile crossed Newt’s features. “Hey, buddy.”

 

And then the door behind him was opening and closing with an irreverent bang. Newt might have flinched at the sound, if he had the energy to do as much. Instead, he turned slowly towards the door.

 

The man, who had a distinctly lawyerly presence, looked at the duo. “Glad to see you both alive and well,” he said, clearly indifferent about the fact that they were alive, and likely consciously unaware of the fact that neither Hermann nor Newt were remotely well. “I’ll keep it brief, because I know that one--” he gestured at Hermann “-- has been in and out all afternoon. You,” he pointed at Newt, “are under arrest for breach of contract, and you,” he pointed at Hermann, “Harbored a fugitive. We’re doing everything we can to keep the hounds off your backs, but you’ve got a trial pending.” A familiar groan from Hermann. Newt, sincerely wishing that he had his voice, simply clenched his jaw, giving the most fiery evil eye to the lawyer. “We can talk when he’s out of recovery. Take care, Doctor.”

 

Newt watched as the man left, and looked at Hermann, letting out a huffed laugh. “What a guy,” he rasped, sitting back in the wheelchair. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it” He said, wishing he had the breath to say something about how Hermann seemed to be pretty damn good at being a persistent son of a bitch. 

 

There was a lot that Newt didn’t have the breath ( or guts ) to say. Instead, he looked up at the physician, who had been unfortunate enough to experience everything that had just occurred, and made a vague gesture towards the door, to which he was quickly transported.

 

As soon as Newt was back in the hospital bed, he fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was shorter, but it's very much an interim. I wanted a little bit of softness to ease the stress of everything that's happened.
> 
> This slow burn is reaching, like, Elizabethan levels. An integrity-lacking part of me wants to abandon the plot and have them kiss already. The prideful parts of me refuse. Something about how rewarding it will be if I let the relationship advance organically, or something. Who knows.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @destinae, and @tendochoL on twitter-- I'm far more active on the latter.


	29. Chapter 29

“They all think you’re guilty,” Hermann said, turning the handle of his cane over between his hands.

 

Three days had passed since Newt had woken up-- it had been nearly a full week since the events at the Shatterdome. The hospital had ( mercifully ) kept both of the young men in its custody, as Hermann was still undergoing fairly rigorous physical therapy, and Newt’s brain was being consistently scanned to assess for any damages due to his falling out of alignment.

 

It turned out that Newt had missed quite a bit after he’d passed out in  _ Delta _ . Hermann, being Hermann, had managed to pilot  _ Delta _ solo, long enough to grab Itak by the waist and push it into the ocean. While this had given  _ Eden _ the perfect opportunity to finally finish Itak once and for all, Itak had used its final moments to tear into  _ Delta _ and nearly cost Hermann his entire leg.

 

According to Penny, Hermann had only survived due to the expediency of  _ Eden _ ’s Rangers, who had ripped out  _ Delta _ ’s head, which held the unconscious Newt and bleeding-out Hermann, into the Shatterdome. Newt thought about that a lot. He wondered what he would have done if he were responsible for Hermann’s death, on top of it all. He wondered how much harder it would be to walk, without someone pushing him along. He wondered a lot.

 

The duo had been given permission to explore the hospital grounds due to good behavior. As Hermann was still healing ( and would be for a long time, according to the physician ), he was relying heavily on a cane to get around. Newt and Hermann had ended up retiring to a small atrium in the hospital, where a humble yet thriving population of butterflies fluttered around, reminders of how delicate life was.

 

“I know.” Newt replied, softly, turning an IV tube over between his fingers. The hospital kept him on a constant drip of some medicine that was meant to help fight off any possible immediate side effects of exposure to Kaiju Blue. Newt hadn’t found the heart to tell them that he’d been handling the substance with his bare hands since the age of nineteen, so he allowed the treatment. Plus, he liked to think that having to wheel around a IV pole made Hermann feel a bit less weird about the fact that he had to use a cane--- which Newt still privately found  _ fucking hilarious _ . “Do you?” Newt looked up at Hermann, who was staring somewhat distantly at a nearby monarch butterfly, perched on a bed of irises near the bench. 

 

“I think you did all the good that you could do, Newton.” Hermann said, “And if the spirit of the law holds, you’ll be free.”

 

It really wasn’t the time for Hermann’s flowery, academic bullshit. All Newt wanted to hear was one person, just one  _ goddamn person _ , telling him that things would be okay. “Right.” Newt replied. “Thanks.” He turned his gaze from the butterfly, back to Hermann. “Hey, Hermann.”

 

“Yes?” Hermann replied, turning his head from the butterfly and meeting Newt’s gaze.

 

“I have half the mind to drop the lawyer and handle the case myself.” he said, suddenly sheepish.

 

“You continue to find new ways to amaze me,” Hermann chided, “Even after all of your brilliant ideas have fallen through, you persist in believing that you’re in a place to take even more chances. You’re smart, Newton, but you’ve never studied law. Put faith in someone that has.”

 

“I’m not sure I can. Hermann. Pardon my French, but that dude’s  _ une  _ douchebag. I’m not about to get locked up in my prime. We just engineered a weapon that could completely turn the tide of the Kaiju War. Isn’t that what matters?” Newt asked, getting riled up. 

 

“Not to the families of the seven people that died.” Hermann said calmly. “The cost of progress is steep, and it seems that you’re willing to sacrifice everyone for it, but yourself.”

 

They fell into a tense silence, in which Hermann’s words simply played on a loop in Newt’s head. Was his career just another casualty of the Kaiju War? Would Hermann be able to get a working version of the  _ Apocalypse _ bombs working, even if Newt got locked up?

 

Newt’s train of thought was interrupted when Hermann spoke again.

 

“I saw something in the drift, when you fell out of alignment.”

 

“Oh, yikes.” Newt replied. “If it involved me without pants, I don’t want to hear about it.”

 

“No, it was something else.” He tapped his cane on the ground. “Who is Illia?”

 

“Illia?” Newt echoed.

 

“Yes, I saw you-- talking to him.”

 

“Yeah, he’s, uh, he was my uncle.” Newt replied, “Hey, maybe try to forget about what you saw.” He said curtly, rising to his feet and putting a steadying hand on the IV pole. “I, uh, I don’t think you need to worry about him.”

 

Newt departed from the atrium, rolling through the sterile hallways, train of thought flying off the tracks.

 

Illia had raised Newt, alongside his father, when Newt’s mom had decided that her career was more important than her accountability to her own child. Maybe Newt should have respected her choice to let go of him. Maybe Newt still reserved the right to his feelings. He had spent the last two decades of his life pushing thoughts of her as far down as he could-- a jury on the whole arrangement was no longer in question. 

 

Besides, Newt didn’t have much to forget about his mother, since he barely knew her. Illia had taken on the role of a second parent-- not a mother, no one could ever replace a mother-- and even outpaced Newt’s own father in many aspects. Illia had been as much of a friend and a mentor as he had been an uncle.

 

Losing him had been harder than anything Newt had ever faced. 

 

Thus, memories of Illia had gone to the same place as his feelings about his mom, and the same place that he put all those unpleasant things that he’d rather let fester than expend the energy that it took to expunge. 

 

Part of Newt wondered how Illia would react to finding out the fact that he was about to be put on trial in an international court for just trying to help. 

 

He spent the next five hours continuing to research his case, hoping to find hope.

 

Questioning occured on a Saturday. Newt wore a rented suit, hair gelled back in lieu of a haircut that he couldn’t afford, as he stood in front of a public that asked him questions that they could never understand the answers to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway, fun cute hospital time is over, back to suffering. love u all. xoxo gossip girl


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to put a brief trigger warning on the beginning of this chapter for discussion of mental health, as well as death of a loved one.

The line of questioning thus far had been predictable and , frankly, a little dull. Newt had expected ( and in a morbid way, even  _ hoped _ ) that the questioning proceedings would involve a lot more fist shaking, and yelling, and punch throwing. Instead, it involved a balding man in his late forties, standing in front of the stand and going through pages of handwritten notes, mostly involving a series of Kaiju conspiracies that Newt hadn’t been aware of until they were brought up.

 

Thus far, it was abundantly clear that Newt had covered his former involvement with the Kaiju black market fairly well. The lawyer, whose name was Clarence, had spent the last sixty minutes asking Newt about his history of misconduct at MIT. For some reason, Lawyer Clarence thought Newt’s Freshman year strike for stealing a bunsen burner to finish his lab after hours had somehow correlated with a failed biological weapon.

 

“Have you ever been institutionalized, Doctor Geiszler?”

 

With that question levelled at him, Newt became acutely aware of exactly how many people were watching him in the courtroom At the plaintiff's table sat Newt’s lawyer ( who looked like he’d seen several ghosts ), Hermann ( who looked like he’d rather  _ be _ a ghost ), and Penny ( who looked like she’d rather be  _ investigating _ ghosts ). On the bench behind them, separated by a heavy row of wooden pillars, sat Tendo, Marshal Sanchez, the chief LOCCENT officer, who still managed to radiate a confident swagger despite being in the  _ least _ swag-friendly place on Earth. Beyond them, in the rest of the courtroom and spilling into the aisles, was a sea of unfamiliar faces.

 

Knowing he couldn’t lie under oath, but also not entirely interested in expunging his entire backstory to a room full of people whose opinions he knew would be unaffected by the truth, Newt remained silent. Like all great minds, he had suffered under the influence of mental illness. Depression had been a constant presence throughout Newt life, but not until Illia passed away following Trespasser’s arrival had it become a legitimate threat to his wellness. 

 

Stacker had been the one to intervene, and had taken Newt somewhere that he could deal with the grief and survive the crushing weight of the loss of his father. It had been the right thing to do, and Newt knew that, but as he looked Stacker in the eyes, he knew that in order to keep his history in a ward from being used against him, he’d have to set the record straight.

 

“Yes, sir.” Newt said, voice low, head bowed as his insecure focus turned to his hands, fuddling with the hem of his jacket.

 

“Can you please explain the circumstances surrounding your admittance, Doctor?”

 

He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to. Newt breathed in through his nose, making a sincere attempt at collecting his thoughts, and then began to talk. “I’d rather not.” He said, “But since we’re all so curious, I’m happy to elaborate.” Newt cleared his throat, eyes fixed on his hands that played with the hem of his jacket. “Kaiju emit about half a mile atmospheric radiation at an average level of point eight mSv per minute. That’s millisieverts, for those of you keeping score at home. Being in direct range of a Category One for ten minutes would be the same as getting about an hour’s worth of radiation at Fukishima.”

 

“You aren’t giving a lecture, Doctor. Unless this is related-”

 

“It is.” Newt said, looking up over the rims of his glasses before raising his head a little, speaking a bit more pointedly “My uncle Illia and I ran from Trespasser for an hour. We were both knocking on death’s doorstep by the time it was taken down by the Armed Forces. I pulled through. He didn’t. Now, I like to think that everyone in this courtroom knows what it’s like to lose someone you care about.”

 

“Doctor Geiszler-”

 

“Weren’t you taught not to interrupt people, Clarence?” Newt asked. “I’ve been taking a beating from you for two hours, let me say my piece.”

 

The lawyer in question crossed his arms, but said nothing.

 

“Thanks. When my uncle died, I-- I didn’t--” Newt huffed. “I got sad. I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t-- whatever. You get the picture.” Newt said. “A mentor of mine saw that, and he took me somewhere to get treatment.”

 

It took herculean effort not to include a ‘ _ so sue me _ ’ at the end of the story. 

 

“He saved my life. I was sick, and I got the help I needed. I didn’t realize that was a criminal offense, Clarence.”

 

The man in question adjusted his tie, then cleared his throat. “It isn’t,” he laughed nervously, “And thank you, Doctor, for your transparency.” He said, shifting through some notes in paralyzing silence for several seconds. “Uh, so-- so given your history-”

 

“It’s pretty weak,” Newt interrupted, “Don’t you think? To try and draw a connection between my natural human response to grief, and the things I’ve been charged with?” He asked. “I’ve never studied law, but I have a sneaking feeling that there are some serious ethical issues-”

 

The judge’s gavel stopped Newt from making his point. Newt sat back in his chair, letting out a sigh. Clarence continued to fumble with his notes. “Uh, just one more question, Doctor. You-- you were reported to have worked with a Doctor Hermann Gottlieb during your time developing the  _ Apocalypse _ bioweapons. What can you say about his involvement in the research and development of the devices?”

 

Newt’s breath caught in his throat. “Doctor Gottlieb and I have known each other for well over two months.” He said, “And during that time, I don’t think I’ve ever questioned his character, or his integrity, or his-- his morality.  _ Apocalypse _ was made with  _ my _ notes. Hermann--- Doctor Gottlieb didn’t-- he’s innocent. He didn’t have a part in this. I mean… I mean, Gottlieb helped develop the Jaeger codes. Surely, if he was involved, the ignition mechanism in  _ Apocalypse A _ wouldn’t have failed.”

 

He’d practiced that one for about three hours before the questioning. The simple truth was that discoveries that Newt had made with Hermann while at the Shatterdome were priceless. If they were both sentenced, there was no way that any advance on the  _ Apocalypse _ designs could be made. If Newt took the fall-- if he got himself locked up and charmed his way into parole-- there was a good chance that by the time he got out, Hermann could have made some serious advances towards a finalized design.

 

It was about the science. It always had been.

 

The questioning continued, remaining as uninteresting and dry as it had been for the first two thirds of its proceedings. Newt was finally released at four in the afternoon, accompanied by Hermann, Stacker, and the rest of their ragtag posse, shoving through a throng of press and piling into a van.

 

The doors shut on the rest of the world, the inside of the van a welcome break from the constant noise of the outdoors, and the endless persecution of the courtroom. Newt shrugged off his jacket, sitting back in one of the chairs in time to catch every single set of eyes that was trained on him. Indulging his overwhelming urge not to interact with a single person in the car, Newt folded his jacket in his lap, then loosened his tie. 

 

“What?” he finally asked, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and sitting back in his seat. “If you’ve got questions, I think you’ll be hard pressed to think of one that Clarence didn’t already pull out of me.”

 

One by one, each pair of eyes turned away, until only Hermann’s lingered.

 

Something told Newt that the conversation they needed to have, couldn’t happen in front of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i rused myself into having court drama in this goddamn fic. don't worry, we'll be done with it in a few chapters.
> 
> anyway, i really wanted to canonize newt's struggle with mental illness. it's an important slice of representation to me, and i like to think that it means something to the people keeping up, too. 
> 
> also, it was nice to have newt get a little professor moment, even if it was only brief. the kaiju grrrrrrrrrroupie shines through no matter what.
> 
> thank you all for going on 30 chapters of this with me. it truly means the world that 700+ of you have tuned in, and continue to ride this wild ride with me. xoxo gossip boi


	31. Chapter 31

They’d stayed behind while everyone else walked to their cars. The sun hadn’t set yet, but Newt was feeling tired, and certainly not equipped for whatever Hermann had to discuss with him. The day wore heavy on him, and he was beginning to feel the onset of another migrane-- they’d been a persistent issue ever since the incident with  _ Delta _ . At the moment, Hermann was polishing his glasses with his sweater, a tedious tactic that Hermann employed when he wanted Newt’s full attention.

 

“Please explain to me exactly  _ what _ you were thinking when you claimed I was innocent.” Hermann asked, in a tone that was equal parts annoyed and sincerely inquisitive.

 

“Well, first of all, I’d just like to point out the fact that I just found a way to acquit you of all charges. So,  _ you’re welcome _ . You can address all edible arrangements to the cell I’m gonna be locked in while the court system decides which guillotine they’re going to use to take my head off. Second, I was giving you an out so that you could finish  _ Apocalypse _ , take out the Kaiju, and help me sleep a little better at night.”

 

Newt finished his tirade with a smug smirk, which transformed into a level glare at Hermann, accompanied by determined silence and hands clenched into tight, shaking fists.

 

A bird cawed, and Hermann’s arms were around Newt.

 

As soon as they were close, the space between them returned. 

 

Newt stood still for a couple moments, wondering if the moment they’d just shared was some kind of ridiculous fever dream, or if Hermann had, even for just a moment, exhibited a lapse in character.

  
“Hermann,” Newt said, “If we’re both found guilty, the Kaiju win. There’s not enough time for the Corps to upgrade the new Jaeger models, not when Itak’s set the standard for our new normal. I-- I’m used to being in trouble. I’ll find a way out. You’ve gotta, I don’t know, shake your cane at a few investors and get some work done, and let yourself be the hero.”

 

It was then, in that electrified and nervous silence which followed, that Newt realized where he and Hermann stood. A few months ago, Newt couldn’t have imagined sacrificing his free life for Hermann--- hell, he honestly couldn’t even have been able to fathom holding a private conversation with the man. Now, however, as they stood looking at one another in the goddamn hotel parking lot, making more of the moment than it deserved, something fell into place. 

 

“Yeah, it’s nothing, buddy.” Newt said, patting Hermann on the shoulder, trying to break through the strange state he found himself in. Their eyes met, and Newt had the urge to kiss Hermann square on his worried lips.

 

He didn’t.

  
  


The street lights came on, and the duo retreated without another word to one another, disappearing into their rooms to retire for the evening, which had arrived much sooner than they’d expected.

 

Newt sat on his bed in a stunned silence, his racing mind playing the exchange in the parking lot over and over, trying to make sense of it. Then, his phone rang, and reality broke through reverie. 

 

“Hello?” Newt asked, fumbling with the phone for a few moments.

 

“Newton fuckin’ Geiszler.”

 

The voice was unmistakable. Hannibal Chau. One of what Newt thought was his entirely shut-down connection of black market contacts. “H-hey.” Newt said, letting go of his belt and checking the door, as if an FBI agent were going to kick it down at any minute. “Why are you calling me? With all due respect, you literally  _ could not  _ have picked a worse time.”

 

“Well, I was watching’ the news tonight, and you will not  **believe** what I saw,” Hannibal said, tone amused, “Your face, all over the evening news. Every channel. I couldn’t escape the mug. You’ve gotten yourself into a hell of a pickle, little man.” 

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m handling it. I’m trying to handle it. It’s in the process of being handled.” Newt shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. “Why are you calling me?”

 

“I miss doing business with you.” Hannibal replied, tone more predatory than professional, “Thought I’d drop a line and see if there was anything you could do for me.”

 

“I-” Newt sighed. “I’m not a criminal, Chau. This is just-- this is just smoke and mirrors. When the trial’s over, I’m going back to doing what I  _ should _ be doing.”

 

“Do you remember the first time we ever worked together?”

 

“I try to forget.”

 

“The deal we ran that day gotcha your doctorate, didn’t it?” The question was clearly rhetorical. “I mean, if I remember correctly, that is.” Hannibal said in a tone that suggested that  _ both _ of them knew he had a fairly immaculate memory. “I could save your skin, Geiszler. You could be gone from that hotel and out of the public eye within the hour. All you gotta do is run with the pack.”

 

“No way in hell, Hannibal.” Newt said, “I’m not-- I’m not doing that. I can’t. I have people counting on me.”

 

“Who?” Chau asked, “Your friend, Doctor Gottlieb?” he chuckled darkly, “He’ll be fine without you. In fact, if you disappear, it’ll only sell that little story you set up about a guilty conscience, and they’ll let him go.”

 

Like all things Chau offered, the price tag felt too high. “Or what?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“What if I don’t take your offer?”

 

Chau laughed. “You will.”

 

Newt, filled with the urge to punch the nearest breakable thing, looked at his hotel room’s door. “Everyone will be safe?”

 

“Scout’s honor.”

 

“What’s the catch?” 

 

“I’ll keep you safe, and in return, you help out around the lab. No catches,” Hannibal lied.

 

“How long are you giving me to make a decision? This-- this is a lot, man. I’ve got people I want to say goodbye to.”

 

“Two hours.”

 

Hannibal had always been the type to throw his weight around. “Alright,” Newt muttered. “I’ll let you know.”

 

The call ended, and Newt packed his bags.

 

He would do what he did best, and he would run.

 

With his duffel packed and slung over his shoulder, Newt tucked his phone into a pocket on the interior of his leather jacket, walking down the vibrant hotel hallway to Hermann’s room. He knocked on the door. Silence.

  
“Hey, Hermann. It’s me.” Newt said, knocking again. “I had- I had an idea about the case.”

 

No response. Newt knocked one more time. “Come on, open up. It’ll be quick.”

 

Hermann’s painkillers had probably knocked him out for the evening. Great. Newt took out his phone, dialling Hermann’s number and listening to it ring on the other side of the door. It went to voicemail.

 

“Hey, man. I tried to catch you, but I think you were asleep or something. I’m, uh, I’m gonna have to leave town for a bit. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I need you to hobble your ass into the nearest lab and get some work done on  _ Apocalypse _ , because when I come back, we’re going to pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off, and remind ourselves just how good we look. Then, after that, and after we’re done knocking back pickle shots at some shitty dive bar, we’ll blow the whole damn world’s mind with ourwork. Don’t, uh-- don’t look for me. I won’t be in danger. I’ve just got to… you know, I’ve got to… I’ve always wanted to work on my five o’clock shadow, and now’s the perfect time. Kind of a  _ Dark Knight Rises _ sort of deal, minus breaking my back.” Newt realized that he was stalling. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later. Be good, yeah?”

 

End call.

 

Two hours later, Newt stepped into an unmarked black car and disappeared from the face of the Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember when this was supposed to be a simple fic that went from ldr to lovers and didn't include distinct plot arcs??? me too.
> 
> i saw my chance to include hannibal, and i ran with it. let's see what that stupid son of a gun gets our strapping protagonist into this time. will it include that five o clock shadow? is this just a long winded excuse for me to have long haired!newt? do i even know when this fic is going to end? 
> 
> let's hope i can figure out the answers soon.
> 
> anyway thanks for reading dont forget to like, comment, and subscribe.


	32. Chapter 32

Once upon a time, Hermann had possess the luxury of being able to awake with a start. Now, however, that his leg was held together largely by advanced medical technology, every move he made was stilted and uncomfortable. His morning routine now involved a series of painkillers that had, in recent history, only become stronger as he and his physician came to the unfortunate discovery that the pain that had resulted from the incident in  _ Delta _ was going to become chronic.

 

Hermann, not being the type to check his phone unless he had reason to, pocketed it without seeing the voicemail that Newt had left him, rising from his bed and limping with one hand braced on the hotel’s cheap wallpaper until he stood in the bathroom, looking himself in the mirror.

 

They had a full day of recess before the trial continued. This gave Hermann about twenty-four hours to figure out what Tendo could do for Newt’s case. While Hermann had accepted that Newt was entirely committed to being the uninvited martyr, he still liked to believe that there was some way to lighten the death sentence that Newt was  _ convinced _ he’d get.

 

After a luxurious routine of self-care and preparation for the day, Hermann shuffled into a pair of reddish brown slacks and a stiff button-up. Finally dressed and resigned to face the day and whatever it handled, he gripped the handle of his cane and made a stop by Newt’s room. One more mind on the case certainly wouldn’t hurt.

 

Hermann knocked once.

 

“Newt.” He said, upset but not surprised that it would take more than a polite knock to get the other man’s attention, “We have work to do.”

 

Silence. Hermann knocked again. “Newton, open this blasted door.” 

 

Hermann hated repeating himself. It devalued everything he said. He picked up his cane, rapping it several times pointedly against the door. Deciding not to invest what little energy he had in convincing Newt to save his own skin, Hermann resigned to meet Tendo alone.

 

They made company in a small café attached to the hotel. It was an industrial, painfully niche affair with exposed pipes and bricks. Hermann and Tendo sat in a private corner of the restaurant around a boldly chosen octagonal table. Tendo had an untouched iced coffee with  _ intense _ cream, while Hermann stirred a straw in a cherry-flavored italian soda. As Tendo clicked away on a laptop, Hermann examined the room.

 

“Alright, I’ve got good news, great news, and horrible news.” Tendo said, looking up at Hermann from his computer. “Which do you want to hear first?”

 

“Just tell me.” Hermann said curtly. Any news was good news.

 

“Alright, alright. So, good news. I can definitely get Newt off the hook with the Rangers’ deaths. Great news, I can free him of responsibility for hijacking  _ Delta _ . Horrible news, none of this matters because Newt’s a fugitive.”

 

“I know,” Hermann said. 

 

“No, like-- he’s on the run right now. He’s missing in action. The guy’s a goner.”

 

Restraining his urge to throw the table across the room and immediately track Newt down, Hermann’s grip tightened on his cane. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Yeah, Doc, he was seen leaving the hotel last night and getting into an unmarked car.”

 

The series of powerful yet effectively restrained emotions passed through Hermann’s mind. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as he calculated what to say next. “Do you know where he’s taken himself?”

 

“Uh, no. Otherwise I think I would have had one more bit of good news.”

 

“Well, we have to find him.”

 

“I- what?” Tendo asked, chuckling. “No, man. He’s safer wherever he is now than he would be with us.” He closed his laptop. “I mean… I’m pretty much a neutral party in this, man, but I’ve got a feeling that Newt knows what he’s doing.”

 

Tendo was right. As much as Hermann admonished Newt for his ideas, the guy had a habit of always working his way out of even the most crushing binds. While Hermann admired Newt’s endurance, he didn’t appreciate the lack of foresight. He couldn’t help but feel that this was simply another hair-brained plan. “He does, but that holds no guarantee that what he’s doing is what’s best.” Hermann tapped his finger on the handle of his cane and mused over the most efficient way to find Newt.

 

“You really care about him, huh?” Tendo asked, tone amused.

 

“N-” Hermann caught himself, unable to look Tendo in the eyes. “He’s my business partner. It wouldn’t be very wise of me to allow him to fall off the face of the earth before the project ends.” He said, a bold-faced lie, a desperate attempt to fall further into denial of how much he truly appreciated Newt.

 

Newt was a loose cannon, a spitfire hubris that would make Icarus think twice, but he was a vital part of Hermann’s thought process now. Newt was the right brain, going places that Hermann’s traditional mind couldn’t, while Hermann was the left brain, reining in ambitious ideas to a more rational framework. It was far from perfect and certainly an unreliable dynamic, but it had brought Hermann peace in the chaos he’d gone through in the last few weeks. 

 

“Alright, sure.” Tendo said, taking a long sip of his iced coffee. “Fine. You wanna find him, where do you think we look?”

 

Knowing the question was valid, but having no idea how he was supposed to answer it, Hermann fell again into contemplative silence. He knew that Newt wouldn’t go anywhere without good reason. The guy was ready to be fucking crucified if it meant that this entire discourse surrounding the  _ Delta _ and  _ Apocalypse _ affair would be over. Newt was self-sacrificing, more than Hermann ever could be, but he gave himself up in only the most theatrical ways. “Where would Newt hide?”

 

Tendo gave Hermann a bewildered look. “I met you guys two weeks ago, I couldn’t even tell you what his middle name is.”

 

A beat. “Me neither, so that means nothing. How easily could we find his phone?”

 

“Oh, super easy,” Tendo said confidently. “Just bust down some firewalls, hack the mainframe, throw a few Megabytes in there--”

  
“Really?”

 

“No, I’m a LOCCENT intern, not a CSI character. We’d have to get a warrant.”

 

“Getting the authorities is the worst possible idea that we could have.”

 

“Alright, fine.” Tendo replied, “Then we need to find someone with more technical knowledge than me.”

 

“And who would that be?”

 

“You ever met Penny Sanchez?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet u didn't expect that big ol' pov switch! truth is, i didn't either. who knows how long it lasts. let's hope newt's doing alright.
> 
> Summer edit : im currently doing a summer internship that averages at 50 hours a week. this will not update until around August. very sorry. much love.


End file.
